The Nanny
by TWDwalker5
Summary: Eric has a daughter. Mother's passed away. He goes through nannies like they're tissue. Tris is jobless, and sees his ad on a newspaper. The daughter is really stubborn, rude, and carries a lot of attitude. Will Tris manage to tame her? Will his daughter push her away like she did the other nannies? ERIS.
1. The Ad

**This idea for a story came from It'sHardIKnow. It was my absolute favourite. I quickly became obsessed and wrote two whole chapters in one day. I have even decided to make this a long-fic. Thank you for the inspiration!**

 **This story will later be rated M, when all the Eris lemons come along ;)**

 **What everybody needs to know is that the characters in this story are the same as they are in the Divergent Trilogy. Same characteristics. Same appearance. They are only put in a different scenario.**

 **Chicago is a normal city with no factions. Think of our modern world. It is like that. Some references from the books will pop up now and again.**

 **I have decided to keep these characters in our modern world for the sake of references and humor. I mean come on, who can relate to choosing Dauntless at a ceremony and climbing up to ride a train in the same day? Nobody.**

 **I really hope you enjoy this. I have never been so excited and relieved to write a story in my entire life :)**

.

.

.

There is always a cold breeze in the kitchen. But it is impossible to close the windows. The heat radiating behind the door is too fierce. So they are always switching between opening the window and turning off the radiator. It is always either too hot or too cold. There is no balance yet.

Tris walks up to the window, slamming it shut for the tenth time today. Yeah, so they have also developed a system: leave the window open for an hour, turn up the heating for an hour. It has been like this since they bought the apartment. Christina always said that this is the reason why it came so cheap to them.

She smiles now, strutting into the kitchen and picking up a big bar of chocolate, "You still looking?"

Tris looks up at her from the newspaper in her hands, a small smile finding her lips, "I am... I am trying."

"Oh, you'll find something," she waves her off, ripping open the plastic packaging and shoving the bar of chocolate into her mouth. Tris' smile grows wider. She has always loved this about Christina- how she eats like a horse and fixes a wedgie at home, but puts on a sultry voice and starts to sway like a model when she is out. During both scenarios, she looks gorgeous.

Tris sighs, tossing the newspaper onto their kitchen table. Something that came free with the apartment, "Easy for you to say. You weren't fired last week."

"That was pretty funny though," Chrsitina smirks, chewing, "Never in my life have I met a person who thinks it is okay to steal food from a restaurant-"

"I wasn't stealing!" Tris sits up, "It was late and everybody went home and there was a ton of food left over in the kitchen," She gives her a pointed look, "You didn't complain, it was free food."

"Yeah but..." Chrsitina sucks her lip for a second, as if she is thinking. Tris speaks before she can.

"We're not the richest people in the world. We should enjoy freebies!"

"At the cost of getting fired? No way," Chrsitina turns to look at their wall clock (which came free from a friend. A friend who works with clocks). "I'm gonna be late for work. God forbid I get fired too. And then we are in a hole we can't get out of."

Tris raises an eyebrow.

Christina tries again, "And then we would be near a wall we can't scale." When silence stretches, she clicks her tongue, "And then we will be in a land we can't-"

"Can you please just go to work?" Tris laughs, forcing herself to pick up the newspaper again.

Chrsitina leaves within minutes, high heels on, lip-stick on point, her table waiting apron tied tightly around her waist. Tris can't help but feel envy towards her best friend. No, it is not a great job, no she did not love doing it... but it was better than doing nothing all day. She cocks her head to the side. Maybe getting fired was a good thing. Maybe something good will come out of it.

The heat from the radiator brushes softly against her bare arms. No. She has to keep the window closed. Only- she looks at the wall clock- fifty minutes to go.

Another good thing about being fired: now Tris is home all day, she can monitor the heat in the apartment. It was a nightmare walking into a jungle after a late shift with Christina.

With a deep sigh, she flicks through the thin pages until she finds the job section. Her eyes do a quick scan to find something she might like.

 _Pet groomer._

 _Personal Trainer._

 _Architect._

She rolls her eyes. Some don't pay enough. Others she does not have the skills for.

The second scan starts to look more promising.

 _Waitress._ (Obviously at a different place)

 _Bar tender._

 _...Stripper?_

She does a dramatic eye roll before doing a final scan. There has to be something that has good pay. Something.

One small box catches her eye. It has a border around it and all the letters are thick black. As if the newspaper is screaming at her ' _Read it! Read it!_

 **WANTED**

 **Full time nanny for one child. Non-smoker, non-drinker.**

 **Preferably with experience.**

 **$90 dollars per hour.**

Tris almost chockes on her own tongue. Ninety dollars per hour?! Full time?!

Her heart sinks for a second. She needs experience. For fuck sake.

If she were to get this job, her problems would be no more. She would buy thousands of chocolates for Chrsitina. And no more freebies! She can buy normal stuff. Proper stuff. This is too good to be true. Probably is.

Her fingers hover above the phone next to her. It sits comfortably at its charging station, a green light flcikering across the top from time to time. _What does she have to lose?_

She grabs the phone, punching in the number with both of her thumbs as quickly as possible. There is a long beep. Holy shit, it's ringing. What does she say? How can she sell herself?

A husky male voice answers on the other line, "Eric Coulter speaking."

Tris licks her lips and clears her throat, "Umm... hi, I was just looking at your job offer in the paper and-"

Rudely, he cuts her off, "Can you see me for an interview tonight?"

"To-Tonight?"

Silence.

"Erm, yeah sure. I mean-"

"Great. If you could just give me your number. I'll give you my address. Do you have a pen?"

Tris falls off her chair, scrambling towards the nearest writing device she can find. She writes down his address. Then, with a shaky voice she gives him her phone number.

"I will be waiting for you at seven Ms...?"

"Prior," she answers, surpring herself with the confidence of her voice.

"Seven o'clock, Ms Prior. Don't be late."

 **Soooo... how was the first chapter? Tell me in the reviews!**


	2. The Interview

**Thank you for the feedback on the previous chapter! I'm excited that you are excited, so let's get this show on the road :D**

 **It is longer than what I usually write :)**

Five past seven. She is late.

Tris tells herself that it is only five minutes. Nobody can get mad at someone who is five minutes late. Surely. But her mind keeps flashing back to the authorative voice that kept cutting her off mid-sentence. The 'no bullshit' voice, she calls it. Her heart picks up speed as she looks down at the piece of paper in her hands.

This is it. This is the place.

She looks up, raising both eyebrows. It is an apartment building and it looks like it is made entirely out of glass. The reception is visible to anyone walking by. It reminds her of an office.

Ninety dollars an hour does not sound that crazy anymore. Whoever lives here must be loaded.

Don't screw this up.

Tris takes a deep breath, straightening her black blazer in the process. The least she can do right now is look presentable, her only skills being waiting tables and stealing food.

She tucks the piece of paper into her pocket, starting to walk towards the building. Her scalp starts to sting from the tight bun at the back of her head. Christina's hairspray overpowers any other scent within the five mile radius. Maybe she used too much of it. Well, now she looks like a business woman, how can that be a bad thing?

The sun is gold on the horizon as she pulls the glass door towards her, the empty suitcase in her hand bashing against the handle. She brought it to fit into the whole business woman icon. Let's hope this Eric Coulter doesn't ask her what is inside.

The walls are snow-white. And the floor is like a mirror. She looks down, noticing how big her eyes grew in the last couple of seconds. Will her heels leave cracks on this remarkable floor? For peace of mind, she starts tip-toeing towards the receptionist lady who is already up and smiling, with her hands behind her back.

"Good evening. Can I take your last name?"

Her voice is saccharine, smile obviously plastered on for the visitors. Tris can't help noticing that her hairstyle is exactly the same as hers. Only neater. And sexier. She straightens her back, clearing her throat, "Prior."

"Ms Prior," she repeats. How redundant. The woman leans down to her keyboard, her fingers racing against the clock. Her smile falters and she does a shit job in covering it up by scratching underneath her chin, "You're here to see Mr. Coulter?"

Tris shrugs one shoulder before nodding.

The receptionist starts typing again, a heavy sigh leaving her chest. Awkwardness lifts all the air out of the room, leaving Tris to wonder why this woman would have this effect on her. She notices how the woman's blazer squeezes her petite form, pushing her boobs up to her nose. There is a name tag over her right breast. _Susan_.

The woman who now has a name finally looks up at her, then down to Tris' poor choice in footwear, then back up to her eyes. Tris holds her breath.

"Mr. Coulter will see you now," Susan almost snarls, smiling even though her eyes are obviously cold. Tris has a flashback to the first time she saw _Fifty Shades of Grey_. Quite frankly, the resemblance is uncanny.

"Okay," she replies a little kinder, walking towards the elevator.

"His office is on the 8th floor," Susan adds.

Tris brands her a bitch while making her way up the building. The elevator finally beeps on the 8th floor and she straightens her blazer one last time. That Susan bitch has shaken her confidence.

The metallic doors open from the middle and the first thing she sees is those white walls again. She steps out into the hallway, turning left and then right. There are only three doors here to choose from and one of them is labeled _'Janitor's Closet'_.

Tris turns right, taking another deep breath. Children. Think children. Think happiness and less desire for money. Only children. She mentally kicks herself before pushing her body forward to knock on the door.

A gruff voice orders a 'come in'.

So she does.

The contrast of the walls in his office and in the corridor almost blinds her. Unlike the polished white marble in the reception, Mr. Coulter's are dark, dark, DARK grey. Almost black. She squints, looking around for the white, searching for that hint of what she saw before. Only darkness. There is some white of course, and that is on the frames of his pictures of some certificates. She is too blind to read what they say.

"You're late," his voice snaps her eyes to his. He is nothing like the image she has been painting in her mind. He doesn't even look like a parent. But who is she to judge? She has no kids. Thankfully.

"I'm... sorry, there was traffic," Tris has a bad habit of saying a word... pausing, and then rushing out the rest of the sentence. Strangely, she only does it when she is super nervous.

"Well," Mr. Coulter shrugs, gesturing for her to sit down in a dark, dark chair on his dark, dark carpet, "Take a seat."

She obeys.

The dark Oakwood of his desk is clearly polished. Tris sees his reflection sitting down on his spinny chair, her eyes not brave enough to look up at him yet. When she does, she sees a pair of cold, grey eyes. Light grey (hallelujah, the darkness was beginning to weigh her down). He is wearing a black shirt, sleeves coming all the way down to his wrists where a pair of expensive cufflinks clip the material in place, fighting the urge to rip because of his massive arms. Oh, his arms. Tris glues her eyes to his biceps without thinking. There is an even darker ink under his shirt, tattooed in a series of geometric designs. They trail all the way up to his shoulders where an abrupt change happens and the ink thickens, turning into solid blocks on his neck.

Then, she notices the piercing. A thin ring on his left eyebrow, glistening from the light his dark, dark chandelier is casting.

She speaks before he can, heat coloring her neck, "Thank you for giving me this opportunity-"

"Listen, let's cut the bullshit okay?" Tris straightens up, widening her eyes. The 'no bullshit' voice speaks again. She watches as he opens up a folder, flicking through some papers. Susan and now Mr. Coulter have rendered her speechless. She decides not to speak again unless he asks questions, "What's your name?"

"Beatrice Prior," she answers in a robotic voice, "But everyone calls me Tris."

Mr. Coulter looks up at her for a second longer and a small smile washes up on his face, "My name is Eric. And everyone calls me Eric." Whether his humor is genuine or not, she is grateful.

Tris watches as he writes something down before looking up at her again.

"Have you had a job before this one?" Wait, he is giving her the job? Tris nods quickly, trying not to get her hopes up, "Is there a reason why you left?"

"I was fired."

Eric holds her gaze, as if he pre-judged her and decided that getting fired is extremely out of character. His pierced eyebrow quirks up, "Why?"

Tris blushes, looking down, knowing how fucking stupid everything about her must sound to him, "I took some food from the kitchen of the restaurant I was working at." She does not use the word 'stole'.

A hollow laugh erupts from his mouth, his teeth as white as the walls in the reception. He shakes his head, writing down what she has told him, "Wow, never heard that one before."

In the brief moment his eyes meet hers, there is a definite spark of light in his grey orbs. Tris smiles.

A few seconds later, his face turns serious again, "Do you have a criminal record?"

Tris pauses, making Eric look at her in slight shock, "Well... if you count the food incident, then yes." His eyes immediately soften. Phew. Close one.

He writes something down, a small smile finding his lips again, as if remembering a funny moment from his childhood.

Tris waits for him to say something, anything. But he just keeps writing and writing. And writing. Until his hand starts caressing the stubble on his face, signifying how tired he is. She bites her lip in slight awkwardness. Then he looks up at her.

"What's your phone number?"

She tells him. He writes it down.

"Can you come to work tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" She widens her eyes, leaning forward.

Eric furrows his eyebrows, "Why? Is something wrong?"

"No!" she is quick to reply, taking a deep breath, "I just thought... you know, looking after a child and all, wouldn't you want to make sure I'm not dangerous or mentally unstable?"

He chuckles, tossing his pen to the side, "Dangerous?" he nods, "Don't worry, I'll warn Violet about the high possibility of you stealing her Lucky Charms in the morning."

Tris forces herself to laugh, then suddenly she stops, "So you're giving me the job?" Another part of her brain asks _'Violet? So it's a girl'_.

"Can you come to work tomorrow?" he repeats himself, aggravation in his voice. She made the mistake of being her curious self again.

"What time?"

"I'll need you here by seven," he states matter-of-factly, "You will make sure she is at school at nine. Then you will pick her up at four in the afternoon. She has dance club at three. So normally you will pick her up from school at three. Except from Fridays. Fridays she has the dance club."

"Friday... dance club... three," Tris mumbles. Eric smirks slightly.

"I will write it down for you."

"How long do I stay with her?"

"Until midnight. I'll be home by then," Eric sighs, running a hand down his face, "I have a meeting tomorrow. I can't just take her to work with me. My top priority was to get someone to look after her in a very short amount of time."

He rubs away all the stress and worry from his face, evidently relieved to have one problem crossed off his list. Like a true business man. Or whatever his occupation might be. Maybe she will ask the girl, since he is a 'no-bullshit' guy.

"Is there anything else I need to know?"

Eric nods, sitting up in his chair and ripping a memo note from his stack of memo notes, starting to scribble down with his pen again. He speaks as he writes, "She is allergic to nuts. Bedtime is always at 9pm. Don't let her use the Xbox until she has finished her dinner and done her homework," he pauses, looking up at Tris, "If you can't cook, buy a take away. I will supply the money. Just make sure she eats something," he pauses again, furrowing his eyebrows, "Cereal in the morning. Unless she wants something else."

"Okay, I got it," Tris nods, chewing on her bottom lip as she lists all the possible ways she might get fired from this job.

Eric looks behind her for a long while, the mechanics grinding and scraping against each other inside his head. Then his eyes snap back to hers, "I think you should meet her now."

She opens her mouth to speak but halts herself, "Mr. Coulter?"

He nods his approval. And then she asks.

"In the paper, you stated that this is a full time job. How... full time is it?"

Eric smiles slightly, folding the now heavy in ink memo note in half. He hands it to her. She takes it and puts it in the pocket of her blazer, where the note of this address accompanies the new bit of paper.

"If she likes you, and you do your job properly, you will have to work Mondays to Fridays," he pauses again, "Saturdays and Sundays I am with her all day. Unless of course I get called in. Then I will have to call for you."

"What if I have other plans?"

"Cancel them," there is no shame in the bluntness and order of his words. He spits them out like he has been barking orders at people all his life.

Tris nods, not wanting to get into a disagreement. She needs this money. How bad can babysitting be?

Before she can gulp another breath in, Eric stands up and walks around his desk to help her up from her seat. As soon as his hand touches her wrist, she gets electrocuted. Weird. Thankfully this isn't skin to skin contact, so she can hide her small gasp. Thank you, long sleeves.

He clears his throat and the gruff noise reaches her arm, rushing all the way down her body, burning holes in her stomach. She has to pull her wrist away. He gives her a strange look and she smiles apologetically, "Allergies."

"Men?"

"Cologne," she corrects. Eric rolls his eyes and walks towards the door first. She tiptoes behind him, watching as his broad shoulders block her view of everything. Even though his shoulders are an amazing view. Better than anything in this room. Except maybe his face. Wait, what?

Tris shakes her head, following him out into the white corridor. She looks down, watching as her feet take small steps on the shiny floor. She starts concentrating on how she walks. Step, step, step, step. She starts counting. She tries to block out his heavy breathing in front of her. Is he a smoker? No, why would he be? In the newspaper it said that he wanted a non-smoker nanny. Unless he is a hypocrite. No, he can't be.

Tris yelps as she slams into his back, all thoughts rushing away guiltily. If her thoughts had faces, they would look very worried as they scurried away, their tails snaking behind them. Since when do thoughts look like sperm?

Eric turns to look at her, not having the first clue about how messed up her brain is right now, "We're here."

In a split second, his hand is on her lower back, pushing her through a door which leads to a nice looking shoe closet. For some reason, she is more nervous about his hand being on her back than she is about meeting this girl.

"This is my work place. You will be given another address to come to for tomorrow," A work place? Jesus fucking Christ.

She glances behind her shoulder at him. He nods with encouragement before calling out, "Violet! There's someone here I want you to meet."

'You must', instead of 'you might'. 'You have to', instead of 'you could'. 'I want you to meet' instead of 'would you like to meet'.

Tris bites her lip.

There is a pitter patter of small feet somewhere in the distance. She holds her breath, uncertain of where this child might pop up from.

She jogs around the corner of a grey wall, her smile dropping when she sees her next nanny. Tris' only grows wider. Small girl. Tris guesses eight or nine years old. Violet dress- probably to match her name- that ends at her knees. Blonde hair that reaches her ribcage scatters in thick waves over her shoulders. Petite chin. Full pouting lips. She looks nothing like her father.

Except for the eyes. Which are the same light grey. The same look. The same cold and even a hint of sadness.

Tris kneels in front of her, wanting to scoop up this beautiful creature into her arms, but knowing that it will be extremely inappropriate. She smiles, resting her hands on her knees.

"Hello," she starts in a quiet voice. Her face looks too fragile to handle even the slightest whisper. It is as if she could burst out crying at any moment, "My name is Tris."

She expects her to say something back, or at least smile. Instead, she looks up at her father and furrows her brows, allowing her confident tone to sound loud in the apartment, "You have got to be kidding me."

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Tris drops her empty suitcase onto the table of her kitchen. Christina leans back in her seat, mouth full of something red. There is a bowl of strawberries on her lap.

The immense heat hits her square in the face and she walks over to the window, hanging her head out of it like a dog might. Christina must have just arrived home from work, which would explain a lot. The heat, the strawberries, her apron still being around her waist.

There is the sound of a scraping chair behind her, followed by her best friend's amused voice, "Woah there, fancy pants," she swallows the contents in her mouth, "Where have you been?"

Tris pulls back into the kitchen, leaning against the cill to get the late night breeze against her back, "Job interview."

Christina raises both eyebrows, shooting up from her chair, "Well- what- how did it go?!"

"It was alright actually," Tris nods, shrugging off her black blazer to reveal her white collar shirt, "If you don't count the... oh I don't know, everything!"

Her friend furrows her eyebrows, an amused look on her face, "Hold up. Tell me what happened. How the hell did you get a job interview so fast?"

Tris explains everything. The occupation. The full time thing. The intimidating father thing. The rich people everywhere thing. The thing with the Susan bitch and how much she hates her, when the feeling is mutual. How she kneeled down in front of his beautiful girl and it turned out that she had the worst attitude ever.

After her relentless speech, Christina releases a giggle, shaking her head, "What the fuck, Tris. You fell for the puppy eyes trick?"

"Trick?" she asks, "She has the most amazing eyes!"

"Yeah, and my ass is as big as the moon," Christina's sarcasm shows. Tris smiles slightly.

"It... kinda is."

She gasps mockingly, going over to their kitchen sink to pour herself a glass of water. After she downs half the glass, she asks, "Did you see the mother?"

Tris shakes her head, fanning herself with her hand, "No... I think he is on his own."

"So spend time with him. Get his money-"

"Christina!" her jaw drops slightly, "I'm not getting involved in anything like that. I just wanna work until we have enough money to fix the stupid radiator and maybe make this place look nicer."

"Stop thinking in the long term," Christina scolds her, "How much will you earn tomorrow?"

A lot. A. Fucking. Lot.

 **So when I picture Violet, I picture Chloe Grace Moretz when she was a little girl. I dunno, she is cute.**

 **Review and tell me what you think :)**


	3. The Homicide

Tris decides to come early. An hour early.

She drives a yellow Beetle to the assigned address, her eyes glancing from the road to the piece of paper on her dash board. Not too far from here.

This Beetle came into her life a year ago. It is very old, and the only car they could afford with Christina at the time. It does the job, but it always smells of vinegar and curry. Sour curry. This has gotten used to it, so it doesn't bother her.

She stops in front of a tall building. Maybe ten? Fifteen floors? She finds herself leaning in, looking at the very top of the building through her window. The sun did not rise yet, so it is hard to see anything up there. A few windows are yellow, and Tris decides to call them the 'Early Bird' windows. She looks at her paper again. 13th floor. How convenient. She starts counting upwards from the second window (the first being a small one, belonging to a basement). When she stops at thirteen, the window is yellow with light. Early Bird.

It takes her a second to gather her handbag and shut the un-shutting-all-the-time door of her Beetle before she can make her way over to the building. When she does, she is greeted by a small panel full of numbers and buttons, a little radio in a rectangle next to them.

She follows the rules given to her by Eric and pushes in the code _137_.

Something starts to ring before a speaker switches on, a crackle on the other line. Then his voice comes. Awake and husky, "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Tris," she bites her lip, imagining him furrowing his eyebrows. After an awkward pause, the door clicks open and she quickly grabs the handle, pulling it open.

Deciding what to wear this morning was the longest fifteen minutes of her life. Obviously, she was not going to wear her formal attire. She needed something child-friendly and pleasing for the eyes of a certain cold-hearted male. She still wonders whether he has a wife or not. There wasn't much time to pay attention to his ring finger when his look was all she could stare at.

This isn't a crush. No way. Tris just does not want a man who can have everything scowling down at her lower-class self. One look at her beetle, and he would start pitying her. Which is one of the reasons why she had to borrow Christina's clothes. She always knows just what to wear.

Light blue, high waisted jeans give the impressions that her curves are bigger than they actually are. Her flats keep her petite, not wanting to attract too much attention. A loose white blouse swishes from side to side as she walks up a bunch of stairs, deciding that now is a great time to exercise.

When she gets to the 13th floor, she is nearly all out of breath.

There is only one apartment here, which is not surprising. Eric does not seem like a guy who would want to share anything.

She sees a black (seriously?) door and walks up to it, hugging her handbag to her hip. In a split second, the door swings open quietly and there he stands. A confused look on his face, his black shirt mostly soaked with sweat, a pair of headphones around his neck.

He is also out of breath and Tris does not feel at all left out.

"You're early," he huffs, stepping away to let her in. She smirks, remembering how he said the exact opposite thing to her yesterday.

"I wanted to beat traffic," she replies, walking past him and rolling her head from left to right, observing the new surroundings. Like his work place, this apartment has a huge shoe cupboard. Except in this one, there are more shoes. And coats. She notices a few big, dark ones and small colorful ones.

"At 6 am?" Eric locks the door behind him, wiping a patch of sweat off his forehead, "I'm leaving for work soon. I assume you want to cook her breakfast?"

Tris feels perplexed for a second, wondering who 'her' is. But then she nods, taking off her shoes and stepping into the apartment.

The floor is light Oakwood, and in the middle of the room is a dark blue carpet. She steps onto it, her toes digging into the soft fabric. This apartment looks ordinary, apart from a few obviously expensive purchases here and there- like the massive mirror across one wall and a floral chandelier above her head. She turns to face Eric, noticing a sliding glass door to his right. Through it she sees an indoor gym.

Of course. Just when things started to look normal.

She smiles slightly at Eric, who has taken off his wireless headphones and placed them on a glass coffee table. From two meters distance, she can see him more clearly. He is wearing black sweats and nice looking trainers. Also black.

"Where is Violet?"

"She's asleep," he answers, keeping his voice hushed. Tris decides to mimic him.

"So I have to wake her at seven?" There is a white clock above the front door, no numbers. Only four lines. Where the 12, 3, 6, and 9 would be.

"She gets up by herself," he sighs, looking less interested by the second to keep their conversation going, "I'm gonna shower."

Without a second word, he disappears from sight, leaving her to stand awkwardly in their grand hallway.

Well, if he isn't going to show her around...

She puts her handbag down by the coffee table, walking towards a big arch which leads into their kitchen. Her feet stick to the linoleum under which a heating system has been developed, warming up the floor. His kitchen is bigger than hers. Way bigger. About five times bigger. All she and Christina can fit is a small table and a few chairs, the cupboards have been installed before they bought the apartment. And that is all.

In Eric's kitchen, there is an island... with bright red barstools... and a giant flower pot stands near the arch. As if he didn't know how to fill up the space. He bought a flower pot. Tris walks past it, taking a look at his bright orange cupboards, sparkling with the help of small lamps built into every other counter. There is a pattern going across all the cupboards on the wall- a family of elephants, only their silhouettes. It fits well with the orange. Tris grabs her stomach, suddenly feeling warm.

The sound of a shower running can be heard from where she stands. She turns to take another look at the kitchen. Everything is in place. A table, a fridge, a stove. It is just... so much bigger. And shinier.

A framed picture hangs above a metallic trash can near the fridge. As Tris steps closer to it, she can tell that it has been drawn by a child. Violet. It's a picture of her and Eric. Stick figures. With sad faces. Sad faces?

A chill runs down her spine.

She saw the exact same thing in a horror movie and the family turned out to be murderers.

It doesn't take her long to sprint out of the kitchen.

Thud!

"Oh, I'm sorry, I-"

"Watch where you're going."

Eric. With only a towel wrapped around his waist. Why does everything turn awkward in her life?

Tris wipes some water off her face from the impact of them colliding. Her features sculpt an expression of someone who is horrified. Eric, on the other hand, looks amused.

"I was just looking at the picture-"

"Ah, yes. _The Homicide_ reference," his smirk turns wider as he steps towards the picture. _The Homicide_ was a famous film in Chicago. Tris recalls watching it with Christina one night. She had nightmares for weeks.

"That's supposed to be funny?"

"Violet drew it after watching the movie," Eric states calmly, "If I remember correctly, about six potential nannies quit. She just likes to freak people out." He shakes his head, smiling as if recalling a good memory.

Tris purses her lips, knowing that that film is rated 18. She doesn't say anything.

Eric seems to sense her discomfort and playfully slaps her on the back, "Don't worry. We don't indulge in torturing people."

She shudders. That film was horrible.

Her heart starts to slow down gradually, her eyes drifting somewhere else. And that somewhere else turns out to be Eric's six pack, dripping with water. She doesn't realize how long she has been staring until he moves, like a statue coming to life. Tris quickly looks up, meeting his unreadable expression.

Suddenly, there is nowhere to turn. She thinks about starting a conversation, but all she can think about is that film. She thinks about turning away but Eric's look is so intense that she is almost frozen under it. Like a deer in the headlights.

Relief washes over her when he steps away, "Make yourself at home."

He walks out of the kitchen, tattoos dancing around his arms. She notices how they trail over his shoulders and down his back. Geometric patterns everywhere. As if the ink has been spreading like a disease and wants to swallow him whole.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Eric writes down his phone numbers- mobile, work, and emergency- he labels them. The words are big and bold on the whiteboard near the aquarium in the living room. Tris bites her lip as he turns to her, black suit and tie. He starts fixing his cufflinks as he talks.

"All you have to do is take her to school. The rest of the day- do what you want. I will still pay you for those hours." Why? She wonders, "Then collect her after dance. Which ends at four."

His cold eyes grow more awake by the minute.

"You understand?"

"Yeah, of course," Tris nods, folding her arms.

"Well," Eric nods as well, "Good luck."

He is gone in a blink of an eye and the apartment falls silent, except for the bubbles of air swimming about in the aquarium. She leans in, tropical fish skimming past the gravelly floor.

Food, she thinks.

Racing over to the kitchen, she finds more than what she needs in the fridge. Exotic fruit, the expensive brand of milk she has only tried once, leftovers in tupperware containers. Fruit, veg. You name it. Even looking at it has made her hungry.

She warms up some milk in a bowl for Violet, setting out dozens of boxes of cereals on the table. When she looks at the clock, it is 7. And surely enough, there is a small thud from her bedroom. Is she a robot?

Tris runs a hand through her hair, tying it into a ponytail.

She walks out into the hallway, just in time to see Violet- hair as straight as wheat, but messy on one side of her head. She has blue pajamas with monkeys on them. It is cute. She is cute. Tris smiles, forgetting the events from yesterday.

"Hey, Violet," she starts. When the girl notices her, she does not try to hide her eye roll.

"Is he gone?"

"Yes, he has an important meeting today so-" Violet walks into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Tris feels stupid for a moment, as if she has been talking to herself. That's okay. It's fine. She isn't used to her yet.

Keeping her hopes up for now, she walks into the kitchen and takes a seat closest to the window (by habit), rearranging the boxes from smallest to largest. When she looks at them again, it seems that she has been making an effort. Something Violet does not seem to appreciate. She rearranges them again, even laying one down to give the impression of a sloppy baby sitter.

Tris shakes her head, standing it back up. No, this is stupid.

She listens to the sounds as she waits in the kitchen. Toilet flushing. Tap running. Another door slamming. A strange thud. She looks up at the clock- 7:30. That's okay. They have time.

Violet walks in a while later, her hair in a long braid. She evidently decided to throw on a pair of jeans and an oversized shirt with the words _'I have nothing to wear'_ on it. Tris smiles again, pointing to the shirt.

"I like that," she giggles, "Stating it like it is."

Violet's face does not change. Walked in looking bored, sits at the table looking bored.

Tris hands her a spoon, which Violet willingly takes. Shocker.

"I warmed your milk so that you don't have a sore throat later-"

"I hate cereal," Violet replies, pressing her tongue against her bottom row of teeth.

Tris takes a deep breath, trying not to lose her temper. She taps her fingers against the table, keeping her smile where it was.

"Why do you have boxes of them then?" she asks slowly.

"They are my dad's."

"Your dad does not eat cereal."

"Yes, he does-"

"No, he doesn't-"

"Yes, he does-"

"Oh yeah? Then why didn't he eat any this morning?"

Tris raises her eyebrows, feeling smart.

"How would I know? I was asleep," Violet grabs an apple from the basket in the middle of the table, biting into it, her cold eyes not leaving Tris'.

"Violet," Tris starts, her voice shaky, "Do you think an apple is enough food for breakfast?"

When she doesn't answer, Tris tries again.

"It is the most important meal of the day-"

"You're the most important meal of the day," Violet replies.

"Okay, how is that an insult?"

This time Violet does not reply. She just puts down her apple and leans back, folding her arms. When she does, she looks slightly more like Eric.

Tris sighs deeply, waiting for her to continue eating. What is wrong with this child? No wonder all those nannies bailed on her. She winces, feeling ashamed for having said that. Even if it was inside her head. There has to be a way to tame her.

"What would you like for breakfast instead?" Tris asks nicely, placing her hands on her lap.

After a long pause, Violet tilts her head to the side, "I'm going on a hunger strike."

Tris raises both of her brows, wondering where she got her attitude from. But then again, not really wondering at all. She only has one parent. As far as she is aware.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because you're annoying."

"I'm annoying? I'm trying to feed you!" Tris notices how her voice became louder. She says the sentence again, much more hushed. Violet rolls her eyes.

They waste an hour debating at the kitchen table. Tris tries everything: cereal, bacon, more fruit, more cereal. The child would not eat. She shakes her head then, throwing her hands in the air and getting up.

"I will just tell one of your teachers to give you breakfast," she glances at the clock. 8:30. "Violet, come on, it's time."

Surprisingly, Violet goes to the closet and puts on her shoes and coat. Like a good girl. Tris hovers around suspiciously, narrowing her eyes. So now she decides to listen?

Hmm. Maybe she likes school?

 **Review and tell me what you thought of the chapter :)**

 **I feel like these debates are going to be fun to write. Tell me if they are just as fun to read.**


	4. The Hunger Strike

**I must warn you, this chapter jumps a lot. But come on, it is better than splitting the whole thing up into smaller chapters, wouldn't you say? :P**

Tris pulls up her Beetle near a mundane school. Thank God it's not a private one. Children are rushing inside, some holding hands of their mums, dads, grandparents, older siblings.

They have just made it. After getting lost more than twice, she was sure they would be late. Violet didn't help. Tris rolled her eyes.

"This car reeks," Violet snarls, unbuckling her seatbelt.

"Yeah, whatever," Tris sighs, looking over at the girl, "Do you want me to walk you to the doors?"

"No, gross."

She watches as Eric's daughter mounts the stairs to the double doors of the school. After Violet walks in, Tris sighs in relief and starts her car. That is one job done. She figures that Violet is way too smart to go on a hunger strike, so she trusts her to grab a free breakfast before her lessons. Hopefully, her attitude will change. Unless she thinks she is a pushover.

Tris straightens her shoulders and starts driving. _I'm not a pushover._

When she gets back to Eric's apartment, the silver phone on the coffee table rings. She raises an eyebrow before answering it.

"Hello?"

"Hello," Eric's voice brushes against her ear. She smiles slightly, taking a seat on his super stylish stool, "Did you take her to school?"

"Yeah, I did, I just got back," Tris licks her lips, wondering if she should mention her behavior.

"Good," for a second she thinks that the conversation is over, but then, "Was there any problems?"

"She told me she was going on a hunger strike?" To Tris it sounds more like a question, but then again, it kinda is.

There is a soft chuckle on the other line, "Of course she is."

Tris is suddenly relieved, "So she does this often?"

"No..." Eric pauses, his breath hitching. Tris stares at the wall and then sighs loudly.

"Oh... Well I'm gonna go,"

She hangs up before he can say another word. Talk about the most awkward conversation ever.

A hunger strike huh?

An idea lights up above her head. She will not be outsmarted by a nine year old.

Tris goes over and into the kitchen, opening the double doors of their fridge. It's exactly as she remembered it- lots of food. Everything you would ever want. Except when she checks thoroughly she notices that all food packets do not contain nuts. In fact, there is not a nut in sight. Violet is allergic. Duh.

With a raised chin, she hugs as much food as she can carry and lays it out on the table, separating whole foods from ingredients and ingredients from liquids. An apartment this big should have everything. She taps her chin before spinning around and finding a stack of cookbooks on a designer shelf near one of the cupboards.

She picks up the dessert book, curious about the post it notes sticking out here and there. Opening one of the marked pages a wide grin covers her face.

 **Violet's favorite.**

Eric's handwriting. This is perfect.

A wave of warmth washes through her body. That is actually very adorable.

She puts the book on a bar stool before picking up a main meal one and looking through it. One page is completely highlighted. And the meal is rare steak. Probably Eric's choice.

Tris flicks though it once more, finding a child friendly meal at last. Estonian burger. What the heck is that? Violet's name is written at the bottom of the page, so Tris figures: less questions, more cooking.

Within seconds, she finds half of what she needs to make the burger. There are a few sauces to make from scratch, which she hasn't done before. But how hard can it be?

She stands on her tiptoes to fish through a very high cupboard for salt. She struggles to turn on the stove- seeing as it is a touch screen one and not the fire going everywhere one that she has with Christina. She mixes the right ingredient, timing herself on her phone. This has to be perfect. It has to be.

An hour passes and she turns around to see that the burgers have been perfectly cooked, an appetizing salad has been made and a range of sauces stand in little containers, all ready to be put away in the fridge for later. She has to warm everything up in time for when Violet arrives.

Tris runs a hand through her hair to find it has become puffy. Probably from the heat. She reaches up above the stove to turn the air con on and in a few minutes, the whole kitchen carries a perfect breeze. A pang on envy hits her. It must be easy to live like this.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Tris stands in front of the table, hands on her hips, a proud smirk on her face. The view is something that should belong in a cookbook. It looks absolutely incredible.

The cutlery is set out for three people. Three shiny plates and 6 knives and forks. Eric won't be here for dinner, but she figured that Violet would appreciate the gesture.

Two big bowls of salad stand in the middle, ready to have scoops of greenery taken out of them. The burgers carry a little steam near the salad bowls. Five different sauces glisten in small saucers near the plates. The dessert is chocolate cake. And it is in the fridge, to be taken out after dinner.

Tris looks at the electric clock at the side of the stove. 15:45pm. Shit.

She has been cooking all day. Literally. And she has 15 minutes to get to Violet's school to pick her up from dance.

Looking at the food, her dry mouth waters, and she struggles to swallow. She can eat after Violet has been picked up.

So she leaves the apartment in a hurry, grabbing her car keys and darting out of the door.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Violet is outside when she arrives. From the car, across the school parking lot, with this massive distance between them, she looks almost peaceful. But when their eyes meet, hers freeze into cold pebbles.

It has started to drizzle and the sky turned into a blank canvas. Depressing weather actually. Tris opens her car door and waves for Violet to come over, a little too enthusiastically.

Even from here she can see her eye roll. But she starts walking, her braid swinging from side to side behind her.

"Come on," Tris says when Violet is close enough to hear, "I have a surprise for when you get home."

Violet mumbles, "Please let it be rope."

"Violet," she warns, keeping her happy face on. She decides to change the topic once they are both in the car, buckled up and ready to go, "So how was school?"

The child puts her backpack on the car floor between her knees and tucks strands of hair behind two ears at the same time, "Fine." She seems distant in saying that, as if she is talking to herself.

"How was dance?" Tris tries again.

"Can you just drive?"

There is no use turning up the music or sparking a conversation. Violet keeps that same face she always has- bored, sad, depressed. She barely even looks at Tris. Her eyes remain glued to her window.

 _Is she like this all the time? Or just with me?_

They get out of the car once they arrive and Violet makes a show of running inside the building. The main door has been propped open by a plumber who is busy doing his job, so neither of them need keys to get in. After Tris takes the elevator up (alone), Violet is standing at the front door, kicking the wall next to it. Tris is about to scold her but knows there wouldn't be any point.

She gets out her keys and opens the door for both of them, smiling.

"Just take off your coat and go through to the kitchen," she is almost giddy. Violet's face- still bored.

They walk in, discarding their shoes and coats. The faint smell of cooked meat is in the air and it makes Tris' mouth water. She hasn't eaten all day. It hits her again like a truck. She is starving.

She risks putting her hands on Violet's shoulders as she pushes through to the kitchen, walking on their undeniably fluffy carpet.

A loud sigh escapes the child when she sees the table. To Tris' dismay, the atmosphere does not change. It is as if Violet is blinded with hate- she can't even see the food in front of her. There is no reaction.

Tris bites her lip and walks around her, leaning down to look into her eyes. Her smile stays where it was, "Sooooo?" she sings slightly, "Are you still on your hunger strike?"

"Yes," Violet looks away and folds her arms.

Tris drops her smile in defeat, her eyebrows raising up, "You won't even try a little bit? It's your favorite! You must be so hungry-"

"You wouldn't know if it was my favorite! You're not my mother!"

"Violet-"

"Piss off."

Tris gasps loudly, standing up when she storms out of the kitchen. She has never heard of children behaving this badly before. Maybe _The Homicide_ is to blame. Maybe Eric's parenting. Whatever the reason, it angers her. And she storms up to the phone in the hallway, punching in Eric's numbers before holding it to her ear.

He answers almost immediately, "Eric Coulter."

His voice is colder than it was in the morning. Or during their other phone conversation for that matter.

"She still won't eat. I cooked for her and-"

"Maybe your cooking is shit."

Tris pauses, unsure whether he said that or not, "Excuse me?"

He sighs loudly before speaking again, "Are you telling me that you can't feed an eight year old girl?"

Her tone turns quiet as the anger is replaced with embarrassment, "It's not that easy."

"I'm on my way,"

"No, Eric, it's okay, really-"

 _Beeeeeep._

He hangs up.

Tris tries to swallow the lump in her throat.

She's getting fired.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

It gets to about 5pm when the front door slams and Eric strides in. She doesn't know him well enough to feeling this shitty. But she does. A knot has formed in her stomach, making it hard to breathe. Even her hunger disappeared. Nothing is important anymore. All she wanted was to take care of this child and get paid for it. Now, he will definitely send her home and probably won't even write a paycheck.

Tris stands up to greet him in the hallway, her feet sinking in their blue carpet. She holds her breath as he comes up to her. Emotionless face, radiating anger.

She puts on her 'no bullshit' voice. Yeah, it can work both ways, "Violet is in her room."

Eric nods weakly, jaw clenching and unclenching.

His tie is loose around his neck. His black jacket is thrown over his shoulder, tattooes seeping through his white shirt. It is almost see-through.

After a long look at his employee, he walks past her, shoulders colliding. Tris winces slightly, blinking away the tears that started collecting in her eyes. When she gets home, she will hang out of her kitchen window and open a bottle of wine. It doesn't matter if she can't afford it. She will buy one with her last money. She will steal one if she has to. And Christina will be there. And she will cheer her up.

No more children. No more Eric. No more stress.

"Did you cook this?" his voice is suddenly soft behind her. She turns around to see him glued in the kitchen doorway, all anger washed away, looking almost sorry.

"I did," she answers, wrapping her arms around herself.

A single streak of sunlight shines through the doorway, his massive body blocking most of it from reaching the hallway. But it reaches enough to light the whole place up.

Tris sniffs, wiping her eyes quickly. Before he calls her stupid. Because he could. He's Eric.

"I'll talk to her," he finally says, leaving Tris alone.

Tris starts feeling slightly confused. Isn't he going to kick her out?

Being risky, she walks into the kitchen and takes a seat on one of the barstools, putting her head into her hands.

Suddenly, there is that familiar squeal of Violet's voice. She raises it before Eric even has a chance. Tris tilts her head to the side, trying to make out what she could be saying. She is complaining, that's for sure. It is obvious because Violet's voice gets a little too high pitched, and then she drags out a single syllable. And then she groans.

A slam of a door makes Tris jump slightly and she turns to look over her shoulder, seeing only a shadow of a little girl, running into another room.

Is it _really_ that hard to reason with her?

Eric comes in a minute later, rubbing his face with both hands in expiration, "She didn't eat anything?"

"No," Tris bites her lip, "She must not be hungry." Her voice seems far away, as if it should never have been in this apartment in the first place.

"Well, it's a good job I am," Eric says, taking her by surprise when he sits down next to her. Is he trying to cheer her up?

She turns her head to look at him. There is a small smile on his face.

Tris sighs, "I'm sorry you had to leave work because of me."

"Who said I had to leave work because of you?" he grabs a burger, taking a bite of approximately half of it.

A grin forms on her face and she tries her hardest to push it away, "I just figured that because-"

"My meeting didn't go down well," he says with his mouth half full, "I wanted to come home anyway."

Her mouth waters all of a sudden and she doesn't hesitate before grabbing a burger and piling the vegetable salad onto her plate, "What's your job?"

He takes his time chewing, and Tris thinks that he isn't getting ready to answer at all. But then he does, "I train people."

Tris finally takes a bite, closing her eyes in pleasure. Her hunger jumps back to her, "Train?"

"Train."

Good talk. She figures that he must think she is smart enough to fit two and two together. He is extremely fit. So it must be sports related.

It gets so silent that she begins to hear Eric's throat squeezing the food down to his stomach. She risks a glance at his face. He doesn't seem to care at all.

Tris licks her lips before asking, "Is it just you and Violet?"

She crosses her legs under the table, gulping when she accidentally bumps into Eric's knee. Her whole body tenses up as he takes a deep breath. It's one of those things. She doesn't know what he would do with her, but she is still terrified.

He sighs loudly, coating the room with something awkward. To her surprise, he still answers, "Yes."

When she leans over to pour herself a glass of water, he surprises her even more by elaborating, "Her mother passed away."

"I'm sorry," is her automatic response. Because what the hell is she supposed to say to that? "How?"

Immediately after asking, she squeezes her eyes shut, hoping that God will be kind enough to choke her with the water she is drinking. Her curiosity will be the death of her soon.

"In an accident," he says.

Tris seals her mouth shut after finishing her salad. That must be hard for a child to overcome. She would know. Both of her parents are dead.

Eric leans over and grabs her glass of water, drinking what is left. Oh? Now they are sharing a drink?

"Thank you for trying today," he purrs, leaning down so that their eyes are level with each other. From this distance, his look almost blue.

"Why are you thanking me? She hasn't eaten."

"You tried," one corner of his lips tugs upwards, "She will come around."

There is a hidden message behind every freaking word he says. Because surely enough, Violet walks into the kitchen ten minutes later, grabs a burger and eats in silence.

Tris smiles.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

"I will be absent tomorrow morning," Eric says, grabbing a pen and tearing a cheque from a stack of papers in his back pocket, "Look after her till lunch time. Then you're free."

Tris decides not to ask any more questions about whether she is fired or not. She still doesn't know what changed his mind. She simply nods.

After scribbling some numbers, he folds the cheque in half and hands it to her. She takes it, blushing when their fingers brush, "Thank you."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Tris," her name is like a whisper on his lips. She shudders, walking out of the apartment.

It is only when she is in her Beetle that she gets out the written cheque and decides to read what is on it.

 **To...** _Beatrice Prior_

 **Amount of money awarded...** _$1,200_

 _._

 _._

 **Feel free to leave any constructive critisism in the reviews. What did you think of this chapter? :)**


	5. The Awkwardness

**I always take your critisism on board. Some things, I can add to the story, some I cannot. Either way, thank you for trying to make it better :)**

 **Here is chapter 5.**

He is dressed less formally today. A tight black shirt, black trousers and designer trainers.

His stubble is gone- replaced with smooth skin, and a more square jawline.

His geometric tattooes sneak out from under his shirt, snaking down all the way to his wrists.

"Come in," Eric says, stepping away for her to enter.

Tris smiles politely, stepping into the apartment, her frilly grey dress swaying in the breeze of the hallway. She takes off her jacket, grabbing her ponytail and stroking it all the way to the tip.

Like Eric, she chose to wear sneakers, although hers are not designer. They are simply white.

Eric closes the door behind him, his eyes lingering on her chest. It is a warm day, and she struggled beforehand to choose her outfit. Y'know, because she is poor and she doesn't have much of a choice. So she picked up her old, grey dress, not bothered by how much her chest would be on display. It's not a low cut dress or anything, it's simple and girly and definitely not slutty. But for her, it feels revealing. Because there are no sleeves. Legit.

She runs a hand up one shoulder, playing with the strap that loops around her neck, "Does she sleep in on Saturdays?"

Eric tears his eyes away from her chesticles, and raises his eyebrows, probably not hearing what she had said. But then he nods, "She gets up at about ten."

Tris puts her jacket down and takes off her sneakers, going over to her favourite blue carpet. She glances up at a clock. 6am.

A yawn catches her off guard and she has to cover her mouth. Eric walks up behind her, smirking. As usual, his voice is hushed at daybreak.

"Take a nap. Just make sure you are there when she is awake."

"No, I'm okay," she rubs some tears away from her eyes, "I'll just read or something."

Last night, she got in at 10pm. Theoretically, eight hours is more than enough amount of sleep. But she feels tired nevertheless.

"How did it go?" Christina asked, poking out of her room.

"Uhh..." was all Tris could reply with.

Suddenly, she remembers the feeling she got when she looked at her first paycheck. The memory makes her blush.

"Eric, I've been meaning to ask," she starts, "you've payed me more than you should have... was... did you make some sort of mistake?"

It makes her uncomforatble how he throws away his money, like he has billions in his bank account. Like he will never run out.

"No," is his answer. She goes into the kitchen before the inevitable happens again: awkwardness.

After thirty minutes of showering, dressing up and hovering around to catch glimpses of Tris' chest, Eric leaves for work. She breathes a sigh of relief, subconsciously placing a hand on the bare skin below her chin. Maybe the dress was a mistake. She is here to babysit, not to model boobs.

He has left $200 on the table, in case Violet wants to go out somewhere, but Tris is still a bit shocked as to why anybody would want to spend that much money going out. In the morning. As a child.

The house is quieter than usual. Violet and Eric's personalities are colourful enough to paint the town red (oh, the irony), but now that Eric is at work and the other ray of sunshine is asleep, Tris has to admit that the atmosphere is a little boring. And waiting for the time to pass until Violet wakes up is extremely tedious.

She walks in circles like a dog, and then her circles extend into the hallway, so that the circles become ovals.

Tris walks past Violet's room about three times, curious to see how it looks and what kind of stuff she has in there (hoverboards, games consoles and lava lamps are what pops into her head first). But the child is asleep, and how weird would it be to just stroll in? Tris imagines Violet telling her to piss off and smirks.

Eric's bedroom door opposite Violet's is closed. And there is no lock.

Tris bites her lip, leaning against the wall for a minute.

Then she goes in.

Something along the lines of disappointment crosses her face. Eric's bedroom is... ordinary. She was expecting chainsaws to cover his walls, collections of heads from the people who dared to piss him off standing on pillars, whips and chains lying on his bed, along with a binding contract.

He is no Christian Grey. Tris releases a chuckle.

Instead, what she sees is a king sized bed with black sheets and duvet... and pillows. The metal bed frame glistens in the rising sun from his floor-to-ceiling window. A dark Oakwood wardrobe stands next to his bed, the edges coated in shiny metal. Opposite his bed is a massive cabinet with drawers at the bottom, cupboard at the top, and space for photographs and a computer bang in the middle. Tris leans down to see herself in a long mirror behind all the photo frames. This house has a lot of mirrors.

She bites her lip when her eyes adjust to all the pictures in from of her. Most are of Violet. Some are with Eric and Violet together- in the pool when she was a baby, a recent selfie in a car. But then there is one photo of a woman she has never seen before. Probably Violet's mom.

She has her arms wrapped around Eric's neck from behind (he is in a sitting position). A three year old Violet sits on his lap, looking up as her mother's hair cascades down her shoulders, tickling Violet's face. She is laughing and trying to grab onto it.

Tris leans in a little more to make out the features on the woman's face. Violet. Except that her eyes are a chocolate brown, and Violet's are grey. She is taller than Tris, and has a couple of tattooes on her arms. She can't pull off a dress due to her masculine figure. This job of Eric's must have run in the family.

Tris sighs sadly, taking a step back.

What is there to say? Violet's mother died too young. Now their colourful family is a colour too short.

Her bare feet stick to the cold tiles underneath her until she walks on a white carpet to look out of the window. The view is not bad. She can see most of the city. It's lucky that there aren't any tall buildings near this one, otherwise how would Eric ever get dressed? There are no curtains.

"What are you doing in here?"

A small voice makes her jump and she spins around, nearly losing her footing. Violet stands in the doorway, holding onto one side of it while rubbing her eyes.

 _Good, she is not fully awake! Let's push her and run away!_

Tris shakes her head, folding her arms behind her.

"I was just looking out of the window," She nods her head to the orange sun behind her.

Violet furrows her eyebrows, her eyes on Tris' chest. Slowly, she folds her arms in front, only squeezing her breasts together.

The child groans and turns to walk away, "No wonder my dad hired _you_."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Breakfast is near perfect. Well, for this household.

Violet eats her cereal- the cereal she claimed was her dad's. Tris found out that she has a massive bowl with her name on it, and it is used almost every day. _What is she, a dog?_ Tris nearly asked her is she was, but bit her tongue. It would sound rude and a bit weird. Lots of children have things with their names on it. Lots of people have _cups_ with their names on it. But the name _Violet_ looks like it was scratched into the ceramic- quite aggressively actually.

Tris wonders if the bowl has some sort of funny story behind it.

"I'm done," Violet leans back and pushes the bowl away from her. It is empty when Tris grabs to wash it in the sink.

"So... what do you want to do today?"

"Did you know that my dad was going to be at work today?" Her tone is angry. Oh, boy.

"He told me yesterday- yeah."

"On Saturdays, we have fun. And now I'm stuck here with you."

Tris winces slightly, shrugging off her insult at record speed.

"Well, he isn't gone for the whole day. So we can do something until lunch time and then he will be back."

"That won't be necerary." Tris holds back her smile, trying not to burst out laughing.

And here it is. For the first time, Violet is showing her innocence.

"You mean necessary," Tris corrects her, a grin spreading across her face.

"That's what I said," Violet rolls her eyes and flicks her hair behind her shoulder. Tris tries not to picture her doing that in the future in high school. Like a mean girl.

"I know," it is better to agree with her. Tris sighs, waiting for the uncomfortable moment to pass. Then she speaks, "Do you want to go to the park?"

"Yes," her reply is instant. Tris raises her brows.

"What, really?"

"Are we going to the park or not?"

It takes them only a couple of minutes to get dressed and ready. Tris grabs Violet's purple coat and holds it out to her. Violet shakes her head.

"Come on, it's windy, you'll get sick."

"I look like a loser in that coat."

"Then why did you buy it?"

"Because my dad said it would be warm."

"Your dad is really smart. Please don't waste his money," Tris nudges the coat closer. Violet takes a step back.

"Over my dead body."

She lighs loudly, throwing her head back in defeat, "Fine. But if you get cold, you'll know whose fault it is."

"Yeah, yours."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Like Tris feared, the weather turned out to be chilly.

The trees around the massive park pond sway in the wind, leaves being ripped away. The waters of the pond leave ripples, nearly reaching the size of what you can officially class as a wave. It's a good job Tris decided to wear a ponytail today, otherwise her hair would be forever stuck to her lips.

The people around the duo could not care less. Three women across the pond jog next to each other, chatting over the howling wind. A young couple have settled on the grass with a picnic basket. Even small dogs are being walked. Tris has to hold back a laugh as a Chihuahua rolls forward, wind practically kicking the dog in the backside.

Violet stands next to her, arms folded, a scowl on her face.

Tris leans down, "Maybe you would like to go somewhere else-"

"No, I love it here."

Tris licks her cold lips, sighing, "Yes... I can see that."

Violet looks around, eyes squinting, tucking her long hair behind her ears as the wind throws it in different directions. Her blue T-shirt starts to leak onto her arms, or so Tris thinks... her arms are really turning blue!

"Are you cold?" she asks. Violet shakes her head.

Not being able to hold back her eye roll, Tris unzips her black jacket and shrugs it off. Violet stares up at her as she wraps it around the child's shoulders and helps her zip it up. She doesn't even try to stop her.

The cold wind hits Tris' bare arms, and she has to place both hands on her shoulders, "Better?"

Violet nods, her eyes distant. Almost guilty.

"Okay... let's go have a walk-"

"I want ice cream," Violet cuts her off, both hands on her head to keep her hair still.

Tris looks down at her, thankful that her dress is long enough that it won't blow up.

"Are you sure?" she bites her lip, "You're not too cold?"

Violet shakes her head, loosing her footing for a second as the wind knocks her backwards. The sleeves of Tris' black jacket cover Violet's hands, and she has to ride the material up her arms. Apart from that, it fits her. It almost looks like they are the same size.

Tris looks past the pond to see a small cafe perched on a hill. Perfect. Maybe they can stay inside and she won't freeze to death, "Come on, then."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

The wind has calmed slightly when they exit the petite cafe. Tris managed to warm up, but all that time of warming up seems wasted now that the air is Arctic. Violet had three scoops of ice cream, all different flavors, all smothered in chocolate. She even had some chocolate in the corners of her mouth which Tris tried to wipe away with a tissue, but Violet was having none of it. Instead, she wiped it on the sleeves of her jacket. Actually, on the sleeves of Tris' jacket.

Now, her ears are freezing, her nose feels like it will drop off and her bare ankles might just cave in and Tris will fall down, and like an ice statue, shatter against the ground.

She bites her lip to stop her teeth from chattering.

"Daddy!" Violet suddenly screams, taking off in the opposite direction, meanwhile stepping on Tris' foot.

Tris turns to look behind her shoulder and sees a smirking Eric in the distance, holding out his arms. Violet jumps up at him and he wraps those arms around her, squeezing her to his chest and standing up. Violet wraps her arms around his neck, saying something and giggling. Eric says something back, and then sees Tris. And he starts walking up to her with Violet in his arms.

He called Tris when they were in the cafe to find out where they were. His work was cut short and Tris told him that he would find his daughter in the park with her.

She smiles slightly when Eric glances in her direction. Then he furrows his brows at Violet and tugs at the black jacket. Tris imagines him asking _Where did you get that from?_

Violet replies with an eye roll.

Soon, the father and daughter are close enough for Tris to hear. Eric puts Violet down, stepping closer to Tris.

"You're turning blue," he says.

Tris releases a laugh, rubbing her arms, "Oh, really?"

Without any kind of warning, he is taking off his enormous coat and draping it around her shoulders. She is about to protest but the warmth of his body lingers on the soft fur inside, and instead of pulling away, she allows him to zip it up for her.

"Ha, thank you," the cold has really gotten to her brain.

Eric gives her a questioning look before pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. His inked arms tense up from the wind, muscles bulging out. Tris hides her chin in his coat, watching as he starts to pull out hundreds and hundreds of dollars. Okay, no. Not again.

"Wait, Eric," she places a hand on his, receiving a frown. Then she bends over to Violet and with a smile, takes out her purse from the pocket in her black jacket. Violet gives her an intense glare, as if Tris has just murdered her puppy. She ignores it, "Here. All I did was buy her ice cream."

She pulls out the money he gave her in the morning for luxury spendings. Eric hesitates before taking it back.

"I still have to pay you for babysitting," he says, resuming his count.

"No, no, it's too much."

A pause.

"How much do you want me to give you?"

Tris glances away awkwardly, obviously uncomfortable about being forced to choose her amount, "Whatever seems reasonable."

He gives her $700.

"Are you joining us for lunch?" he asks, tucking his wallet out of sight.

"No, I have to get back to my... roomate," she nods. Eric nods slowly as well, glancing down at Violet when she starts tugging him away.

"We'll see you later then," a smirk slithers across his face, making Tris snuggle into his coat. His coat. Tris widens her eyes.

"Wait, you forgot this," she unzips it halfway just as Eric waves and calls over his shoulder.

"You need it more than I do."

She stands on the pebbled ground for a while, watching as he and Violet walk away. It seems that her black jacket has been taken hostage. And asking Violet to return it? Well, she knows how that conversation will go.

 **Please review and tell me what you thought of the chapter :)**


	6. The Black Sunday

**Sorry that my updates won't be as frequent, and by 'as frequent' I mean I won't post every day. Maybe every week. There has been some issues in my personal life, which I won't complain to you about. I just need everyone to bear with me, and give me some time. I am still writing, it's not like I won't update anymore.**

 **This chapter is a bit shorter, but needed for plot. Enjoy :)**

"Hey, can I borrow that black jacket of yours?" Christina asks, throwing her sweaters over both shoulders. Tris dodges every one of them, taking a seat at the edge of her bed.

This has been going on for over an hour. Christina has a date, and what one wears is key, but that factor is multiplied by a thousand if you're a Christina. Tris is a bit clueless as to why her friend is looking through _her_ wardrobe- she is after all: tasteless.

"Sorry, I lost it," she replies, resting her hands on her knees, "Your purple jacket will look better though."

"Ugh, I know," Christina steps back, examining Tris' black blouse, "But it won't match my heels."

It's a Sunday. No work day. No Violet day. No Eric's deadly stare day.

Tris has time to relax before tomorrow. It's a good thing. Everyone needs a break.

"You really lost your black jacket?" Christina turns around, furrowing her brows.

Tris sighs, shrugging one shoulder, "Violet took it."

"Violet as in 'the brat'?" She shakes her head, "You couldn't take it off of her?"

"I wasn't trying to, she was cold."

"Jee," Christina pulls out some black pants before shutting the double doors of her wardrobe, "I would have already quit if it wasn't for the money."

No shit. The money is really good. Like, seriously good. This morning, Tris had the luxury of buying new sneakers. Ones that are not faded or torn. Proper sneakers. She looks down at them now, not ready to take them off. They are too comfortable.

"So tell me," Christina starts again, "Are you ever planning on seducing her dad?"

"No," Tris laughs, putting a hand to her forehead, "I already told you, I'm only there to work."

"But he's hot?"

Tris pauses before answering, "Yes."

"And tall?"

"...Yes."

"And mysterious?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Oh, come on!" she laughs, "You are not even a tiny bit interested?"

She _is_ interested. But that's a bad thing.

"I'm just there to work," she repeats like a parrot, her eyes showing no emotion. Christina rolls her eyes before peeling off her tank top and jeans. Sometimes Tris wishes she had her confidence. Her brown skin glistens from the sweat caused by all the efforts to stay pretty. Ha ha, yeah. As if. In reality, it's just their broken radiator.

Christina gets dressed in minutes and leaves the apartment looking flawless. As usual. Tris decides to cruise by the window, collecting all the cold air she can. That is until somebody knocks on the door.

"Coming!" she shouts, racing towards the light knocking.

The door is open and there stands Four. A smile on his face, a bouquet of roses in his hand, "Four. Hey... what are you...?"

"I heard you got a new job. Came here to congratulate you," he brings his other hand up, showing an expensive bottle of champagne.

Okay, so his name is Tobias. And he is Tris' ex boyfriend. Everyone calls him Four as a joke. It's because of something that happened years ago. They went to a party, and he kept bringing four cups of beer, when there was only three people around. Tris, Christina and himself. He did it because he was drunk of course. Four cups.

That was also the night he and Christina shared a kiss. Tris forgave her friend because it was only the other day that she lost her fiance- Will. But that kiss ruined their relationship. They broke up. She still hasn't forgiven Four for it. But they always hang out as friends. It's not awkward. It never is. Maybe that's their thing. Their crazy thing.

Tris smirks, "Well, come in. Let's celebrate I guess."

Tobias makes his way towards the kitchen, putting the bottle of champagne down and helping Tris settle the flowers into a vase.

They drink the champagne from pink teacups. Why teacups? Because money.

"So you're a nanny now?"

"Yeah," Tris laughs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "I'm a nanny now."

Four watches her with his dark chocolate eyes, always smiling, "Is it hard?"

"Erm... well, I look after a child."

"Okay, gotcha," he takes a last sip from his cup, fanning himself with the bottom of his shirt. Tris looks away when his six pack comes into view.

"Who told you about my new job?"

"Christina," he smirks, "Is she here?"

He turns around to look, but doesn't find her.

"She has a date," Tris presses her tongue against her cheek.

Four shrugs simply, stepping closer to her, "Ah, well."

"She'll be back later if you wanna see her-"

"I came here to see you, Tris," there is something in his voice that is slightly suspicious. Tris tilts her head to the side, wanting to know what he actually came here to do. She's no fool. He doesn't want to just drink champagne.

"Well, you saw," she replies awkwardly, her breath hitching when he starts to stroke her cheek. She looks down. And Four steps away.

"Congratulations," he says.


	7. The Smoking

She parks her Beetle in front of the building, only to find Eric pacing in front of the entrance.

He doesn't see her, being all caught up in his thoughts, and concentrating on blowing out smoke rings from his mouth. Tris sighs, turning off the headlights and killing the engine. Even from this distance, she can tell something is wrong. Is it Violet again? Because fuck, it's Monday. Clearly not the time for drama.

The sun starts rising behind a bunch of trees, casting an orange glow all over the city. She is early again. All for Violet, the girl who will never appreciate her efforts. And Eric. Partly. Well, it's 50/50.

Tris locks her car, walking up to the entrance in the most un-tired way possible. She even smooths down her NEW pencil dress, which is a dull grey, specially made to match Eric's character. What a perfect couple.

"Hey," she smiles brightly, nearly tripping over the curb. But she manages to gain her balance in time for when Eric turns around. Thank God she chose to wear flats.

Eric nods in her direction, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes lack about six different emotions. He doesn't even look human.

Her smile drops, "Is something wrong? Violet?"

This time he smiles. And shakes his head, "She's asleep."

Tris nods, feeling relieved.

He is not wearing his suit, and he looks too hunched for work. Like all his powerful muscles decided to give up working for one day. Or maybe his posture can be blamed on the fact that he is smoking.

It's too cold to be wearing a T-shirt, especially at this time of morning.

Tris stands there awkwardly until he drops the cigarette on the floor and stubs it out, "I thought you didn't smoke."

Eric looks like he is about to answer, but he simply unlocks the door and let's her walk in first.

They get up to the impossibly quiet apartment, taking off their shoes and jackets. Behind her, Eric places a hand on her back and the gesture surprises her so much that she jumps away. Eric doesn't seem to notice.

"I like your dress," his voice is somber.

She would feel warm and fuzzy from the compliment, but the way he says it makes the warmth fizzle away before the words reach her ears.

"Thank you," she mimics his tone.

And just like that, her mood is ruined.

Another cigarette appears in his mouth, this time unlit. Eric seems to have an itch to light it as quickly as possible, but something tells her he would never smoke inside his own house.

"Get her to school. Pick her up at 3," Eric murmurs, fishing out a lighter from his pocket.

Tris nods, knowing that information already. His mood weighs her down and she wants to ask what is wrong, but they don't know each other that well and he wouldn't answer her questions anyway.

"I'll see you later, then," Tris smiles, folding her arms.

He gives her a curt nod and walks out of the door.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

As a normal procedure, Tris waits in the kitchen for Violet to wake up. The coffee she made is too hot to drink, so she sits there on a bar stool, cupping the mug with her hands. The steam reaches her face, making her feel warmer than ever.

She tries to understand why Eric was acting so emotionless today. And if nothing happened with Violet then...? Does he have somebody else he cares about? Or does he just hate Mondays?

There is a thud and a groan from Violet's room at five past seven. Tris smiles as she listens to the child opening her squeaky wardrobe and presumably throwing a bunch of clothes against a wall. For a second, she considers going in there and helping her but that would be a suicide mission. That girl can take care of herself.

And sure enough, she appears in the kitchen doorway a while later, her wild wavy hair cascading down her shoulders. Tris gets up and smiles at her but Violet's shirt insults her before she can. It is a baggy black jumper with the words _Suck A Fuck_ embroiled into it. Tris recognizes the Donnie Darko reference (which is also too aggressive for a child to have watched) and wants to compliment her choice of wardrobe, but instead she sighs.

"Do you really think that shirt is appropriate for school?"

"It's a jumper, you moron," Violet growls, taking a seat on the bar stool near the window.

Tris senses an argument starting to boil and runs a hand down her face. Why?

"Violet, please can you put on something else? You'll get in trouble," she practically makes a praying gesture with her hands, hoping for the best possible outcome.

The child sighs loudly and spends a few seconds sulking. But she gets up and actually goes to change.

Tris runs both hands through her hair. This day is getting more bizarre by the second. Why is Violet listening to her? She is grateful but... why?

Violet returns with a simple black shirt, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Now... what do you want for breakfast?" Tris kneels down, smiling.

"I'm not hungry,"

"Oh, come on," she sighs, "This again?"

"I'm. Not. Hungry,"

Tris stands back up, looking around the orange kitchen, as if to seek help. She won't be ringing Eric again. Not this time. He obviously has his problems to deal with. And she won't start bringing in her own.

"How about an apple?"

"I'll have an apple," Violet folds her arms, leaning against the wall.

Tris prepares Violet's apple. Prepares. She doesn't just hand it to her. She washes it and peels it and cuts it up into pieces, laying them out on a plate. Handing it to her would have been too simple. And she would have felt useless. The least she can do is make herself worth Eric's money.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

After taking Violet to school, Tris finds herself in the Coulter's living room. She has not had time to fully explore the apartment, and by the looks of it, it is an apartment version of Narnia. The living room is massive. A flat screen TV is hanging on a wall, a stylish grey sofa parallel to it. There is a furry rug in between them and Tris can't help but go and stand on it. It's as soft as it looks. Maybe she has a rug fetish.

She turns around, looking over a massive bookcase on the same wall as the TV. Only when she steps closer, she realizes that the colorful slits are not books. They are DVDs. All boxes are the same sizes. She should have figured out that no books are ever the same size.

Her fingertips skim over the DVDs, finding that most of them are horrors. No surprise there. And she guesses exactly who the audience is. And it's not a grown man with black tattoos.

A shrill ringing of a phone make her jump. She runs into the hallway, looking around before she finds the main house phone going wild. She picks it up, holding it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi," a female voice sings, "This is Wendy calling from Chicago Academy regarding Violet Coulter. Are you of relation to the girl?"

Tris freezes, swallowing a hard rock in her throat. Then she realizes she has to answer, "Umm, no.. her dad is at work but I am her nanny, so..."

"That'a great," she can tell that Wendy couldn't care less, "Are you able to pick the girl up from school right now?"

"Right now? Why? She doesn't finish till 3."

"There was an incident with a fellow classmate, we're hopping you can take her home."

"An incident? What happened?" Tris stops breathing, listening to the words.

"Aggressive behavior."

 **Review and tell me what you think :)**


	8. The Anniversary

**Thank you for being patient. Here is chapter 8.**

Tris races down a corridor, looking ridiculously out of place in her pencil dress. The walls around her are covered in childish paintings, lots of English grammar reminders, pictures of star pupils. She never would have expected to end up in a school. Not at her age.

Wendy's voice echoes in her head, reminding her of what a troubled girl Violet is. Tris scowls, glancing at a door and seeing a group of children inside through the little window. Well, it's not like the lessons were cancelled.

Tris turns the corner and sighs heavily when she sees Violet slouched in a wooden chair, arms folded. There is a nurse opposite her, crouching down in front of a boy, trying her best to stop him from weeping. Violet raises her eyebrows, looking pleased.

Before Tris can open her mouth to speak, a chubby receptionist comes into view, heels clicking. She makes a guess that this woman is Wendy. The lady on the phone.

"Hi, are you Violet's carer?" Yep. Definitely Wendy. She recognizes the pitchy voice.

"I'm her nanny," Tris corrects her, straightening her back to fit into the image of authority.

Wendy sighs and takes a good look at Violet before turning back to her 'carer', "I'm afraid you have to take her home today," her voice is too soft. Too forced, "There was just too much of a disturbance," she pauses, "Perhaps Violet is having trouble at home? Is her father aware of her behavior?"

Tris bites her cheek, feeling defensive of Eric, "Her father is doing his best. He is juggling work with family at the moment."

"Aww, I see," Wendy coos, folding her hands together.

"So what exactly happened?" Tris asks, glancing at Violet and then at the weeping boy. There is a bandage around his left hand.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

"That knob-head had it coming," Violet growls, "He's lucky I didn't have a baseball bat on me."

"Violet, please," Tris sighs in frustration, leading her out of the school. They skip down the stairs, heading for her car.

Behind them, the mother of the boy and the boy himself (Jason, apparently), walk out as well, probably heading to the nearest hospital. The mother frowns in their direction, shouting, "Your disrespectful daughter needs to learn how to behave!"

The girls answer in unison, both shouting different things.

Tris: "She's not my daughter!"

Violet: "Go fuck yourself, boob job!"

"Violet!" Tris gasps, ushering the child into her car before the mother decides to call the police.

Once they are both strapped in, Tris turns to her, "You are going to apologize to that boy AND his mother. That was way out of line!"

Violet glares at her, "What was out of line is how that prick," she motions to Jason who is getting into his mother's black Jeep across the lot, "decided to call me moody!"

"But did you really have to break his finger?!" Tris runs a hand through her hair, not understanding how she could possibly get it through her thick skull that being violent at this age will do her no good in the future.

"He deserved it," Violet answers, turning away to look out of the window.

"I can tell you 'no'. He didn't."

"Yes, he did."

"Violet, don't start, you nearly got yourself expelled."

"But I wasn't expelled," she smiles angrily, "I just sent a jerk home with a little broken bone. Boo-fucking-hoo."

"Do I need to call your dad?"

This tips her over the edge. She growls and slams her hands against the glove compartment, "Don't threaten me with my dad."

"I'm not threatening you-"

"Don't talk to me," she holds up her hand, "You don't know shit."

"If you don't stop swearing, I will have you punished, Violet," Tris grits her teeth together and starts her car. Ridiculous.

"Do your worst, bitch," she leans back in her seat and takes a breath of air, looking like the world is ending.

Tris shuts her mouth, anger sizzling beneath her skin. What is there to do? No, seriously. Her dad won't make her attitude go away. He raised her like this. So what is there to do? It's not like Violet is going to listen to her.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

She brings her home and Violet goes straight for her room, slamming the door like an Emo teenager. Tris sighs, taking a seat on the living room couch and putting her head in her hands. It's midday. Violet is supposed to be at school. And it is hours before Eric can come home and sort her out. She's not even sure he will. He looked like the world's most depressed father in the morning. He will come home and he will be too exhausted to even talk.

The ring of a doorbell makes her jump.

Great. More drama.

As she rushes to the front door, Violet comes out of her room, "If that's Jason's mother, tell her to fuck off."

Tris ignores her and opens the door. A pair of blue eyes meet hers. It is not Jason's mom. It's Susan.

The woman smiles that fake smile and makes a show of looking behind Tris' shoulder, "I'm here on Eric's orders."

Eric's orders? Is she a slave?

Tris shakes her head, remembering how easy it was to hate her back at the reception where she met her. It still is.

"I'm sorry, he didn't tell me anything about those orders," Tris replies, feeling too angry from previous events to even try and be nice. Even if she faked, it would look like she is starting something.

Susan sighs, her cleavage wobbling as she pushes past her into the apartment, "It is a strictly need-to-know business. And all you need to know is that I have work to do."

She watches as the blonde bitch parades into Eric's apartment, heading straight for his bedroom. Like she knows where to go. Like she has been here before. Well, they are work colleagues. So maybe she has been here before.

Tris follows her, noticing that Violet went back into hiding in her bedroom.

"So... what exactly are you after? Maybe I can help?"

Susan glances at her and shakes her head, opening a drawer in Eric's desk and taking out some papers. Her beige blazer and skirt are too tight around her obviously stick thin body.

For once, Tris feels content in finding someone skinnier than her. Being skinny isn't easy. She always envied those curves on Christina. But the way Susan acts all the time suggests that her figure is almost perfect. It's great that she is confident. But it pisses Tris off.

Susan flicks through a stack of papers in her hand and sighs happily, finally looking up at Tris.

"This is all I need," she says, "Thanks for letting me in."

 _Not like I had a choice._

Tris nods and smiles. Playing nice. Again.

"Tris, is it?" Susan squints, dropping her business act like her hip, "The nanny?"

"Err, yeah that's me," she steps away to unblock the door, hoping she will go through it. She doesn't.

"Ah, yes," Susan grins, hugging the papers to her chest, "Eric told me a lot about you."

So she works with him? She is not just a receptionist? Susan eyes her up and down, evidently comparing Tris' pencil dress to her beige dress up.

"Only the good things, I hope," Tris' cheeks start hurting from all the fake smiling she is doing.

Susan releases a hollow laugh before walking through the door and towards the shoe closet, "Don't worry about that tattle tale. I can keep him tamed for ya."

Tris rolls her eyes while Susan bends over to dust something off her ankle. There is something dodgy about her. She is making the air stale. She wants that bitch out of here right now.

"Well, I'm gonna get back to him," Susan runs a hand across her slick blonde bun. Tris tries not to punch her. Get back to him? He is not yours to get back to!

"Okay," she answers quietly, knowing that showing jealousy will only make her happy.

After Susan leaves, she starts making noodle soup. Violet tells her she isn't hungry. So she has to eat by herself.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

The front door shuts quietly at around 10pm. Tris turns her head towards the noise, turning off the TV in the living room. He's back. And early. Again.

The house fell silent at nine. Violet's bedtime. It's a wonder why she fell asleep when she was expected to. It's not like she ever listens. Tris didn't say anything. Just in case Violet decided to disobey her.

"Hi," she whispers when Eric comes into the living room.

He still has that look of deep sorrow on his face. But he forces a small smile.

"Hi," he says, walking in slowly, "Is she asleep?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, good," he sighs, sitting down next to her. Tris uncrosses her legs and her feet touch the ground as she straightens up. When he moves closer, the smell of smoke overpowers his cologne.

"Are you okay?" she asks, not knowing what else to ask, really. He looks like his favorite dog just passed away. His grey eyes are darkened. The stubble on his jaw is growing out again.

He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. Tris has to look away from his bulging, inked arms.

"It's been a rough day," he grumbles, running a hand down his face. There is a long pause before Tris can answer. She needed that pause- to stop herself from seeming so eager.

"Do you want to... talk about it?"

Eric smiles with his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Tris bites her bottom lip, having no way of knowing what he is thinking.

Shit. He is in a bad mood. And he has yet to find out about Violet.

"Violet's mother died today," he says, and the mention of her name makes Tris' blood flush away from her face, "Five years ago today," he clears his throat, "I thought it would be easier to live with the loss over time but... it's not. It's never easy."

Tris continues chewing on her lip, too stunned to speak. This is the most he has ever revealed about himself. And why is he revealing it now?

She thinks she hears his voice break, and her breath hitches. But when he opens his eyes, they are completely dry. She sighs in relief.

Comforting a crying man is not one of her strengths.

"I can't raise Violet. I know I'm doing a shit job. I just wish I didn't have to do it alone," he clenches his jaw, looking far into the distance.

Then Tris acts without thinking. She reaches out and takes his hand, squeezing it gently. Not hard. Not enough to make him crack and crumble onto the floor.

Eric stills and then squeezes back, eyeing her as if hand holding is an unfamiliar activity.

"You aren't alone, Eric," she says, feeling the warmth of his hand radiate through hers. She watches as his thumb starts to circle around her fingers. And then Susan pops into her head.

She pulls away, wrapping her arms around herself, "It's getting late. I should go."

"Go?" he sounds tired. And he looks it when she stands up off the couch.

"Yeah, I have a roommate,"

"Oh, it's the 'roommate' again," Eric smirks, standing up and towering over her like the Empire State building, "Should I be jealous?"

Tris can't do anything but smile, "Goodnight, Eric."

He pays her. And she doesn't tell him about Violet. She also doesn't tell him about Susan. But that's a good thing. He has enough to worry about. For now.

 **Soooo what did you think? Tell me in the reviews :)**


	9. The Bug

**Thank you yet again for the feedback :)**

When Tris comes in the next morning at her usual time, Eric's face is still ghost white. And at first she thinks it's the aftershock of the anniversary. But he has a different look. And then he says: "Violet is sick."

"Sick?" Tris takes off her (new) coat, her eyes wide, "What happened?"

He is clenching his iPhone, the screen pressed against his torso, "I don't know... probably caught a bug at school."

Tris sighs, thinking for a moment. His voice is calm, which means it's not that serious... but he looks like he hasn't slept in weeks. He has no idea what he is doing, does he?

"I'm not going to keep you here today," he sighs, "I've taken the day off work," his grey eyes scan down her body and then back up. He licks his lips, "Can you do me a favor?"

"Yeah, anything. I mean, sure," Tris answers, panic in her voice.

Eric smiles slightly, his eyes softening, "Go down to a pharmacy," he pulls out $50 and counts each bill, "Get some painkillers for her age, and whatever else they recommend."

"I don't think I need that much money," Tris takes the cash.

"Like I said," he shoots her a glare, catching her off guard. She almost stumbles, "Whatever else they recommend."

She nods, looking over Eric's shoulder when the unmistakable sound of somebody throwing up is heard. She puts her coat back on when Eric nods at her to go. And she does.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

It takes her ten minutes to complete her mission. She comes back with $35 and a stack of medicine. The door was left open, so she just walks in, tosses her coat onto a table and makes her way through the apartment. It's deadly quiet. Only from Violet's room she hears Eric's hushed voice and the sounds of her whimpering. Her heart drops. There is no way she is leaving. Even if she has to work for free today- she is here to stay.

She tiptoes across the wooden floor all the way to where Violet's bedroom door has been left slightly open, hugging the packages to her chest.

"Ugh, not her!" Violet whimpers suddenly, "She will see me while I'm weak!"

A second later, Eric emerges from the bedroom, a smile on his face, clearly amused by his daughter, "Did you get it?"

"Yeah," she mimics his face, handing over the boxes and the remaining money.

"Thank you," he breathes, holding all the boxes with one giant hand. His eyes linger on hers longer than necessary. He seems to be thinking. His jaw clenches and she knows he is about to say something, but she beats him to it.

"I'll stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she answers, "I wanna help," her lip is captured by her teeth. Eric looks away quickly before nodding.

From this angle she can see into the bedroom: a wooden bed frame, a lump under the blanket and floral wallpaper. Okay, so Violet has not gone totally Emo. Then Eric blocks the way.

"I'm going to make her breakfast," he states, "Can you just hover around and make sure she doesn't puke on the floor?"

Tris nods, smirking, "Yeah. Do you have a-"

"Bucket?" Eric smiles, "Already there."

When did her life come to this? Looking after a sick little girl -who hates her very much- while the girl's (insanely hot) father stumbles around his kitchen, probably making himself a protein rich meal. It sounds like it shouldn't have happened to her. But it has. And it's good. It's an adventure.

Tris sneaks into Violet's bedroom like a mouse, cringing when one of the floorboards creaks. The lump under the covers shifts, but something tells her she is too sick to notice her nanny. Taking advantage of this rare opportunity, she scans around the bedroom. Normal. Huh.

The floral wallpaper she saw before only covers one wall. The rest are painted beige, however, the paint is barely noticable considering that she has a massive TV mounted opposite her bed. The other two walls are covered with shelves and one purple wardrobe. Not purple. Violet.

Tris smirks, walking over to the girl's book collection. Most are fiction. Horror and si-fi. The others are textbooks from school.

Why does she have so many opportunities to be great? Yet she lets herself down with her mouth?

As she steps closer to the bed, a pungent smell of vomit pushes her back. Tris scrunches her face up when she notices a stain on the carpet. It's been cleaned... vomit was here but it has been removed. So where is the smell coming from?

She picks up the plastic bucket the size of a lion cub and dares to look inside. Clean too. Well, there is some water at the bottom, which probably suggests Eric rinsed it out.

She puts the bucket down.

"It was Jason," a scratchy voice says.

Tris furrows her eyebrows when she sees Violet's eyes peeking out from under the covers, "What?"

Her grey orbs are exhausted yet when she rolls them, it seems like she isn't sick at all, "Jason? The asshole with a broken finger?"

All the swearing feels normal and Tris nods for her to continue.

"He made me sick," Violet growls, closing her eyes and tipping her head back against her six pillows, "I almost felt sorry for him. But now I don't. He deserves to have had his finger broken."

"Don't say that," Tris sighs, "He didn't make you sick on purpose."

Violet's eyes turn cold as soon as she says that, and her face is of someone who has had her whole family murdered. Is this the look she will always receive if she disagrees?

"Why are you in my bedroom?" Violet asks, glaring.

"To look after you,"

"I don't need looking after."

"Is that right, carpet destroyer?"

Yeah, it was a cheap shot. Violet does not look a tiny bit offended.

"I command you to leave."

"Yeah, okay," Tris rolls her eyes, taking a seat at the edge of her bed.

The atmosphere changes once Eric enters the room. He is carrying a small, dark glass bottle in one hand, and a plastic spoon in the other. From here, she can smell the crispy bacon sizzling away in the kitchen. Her mouth starts watering.

Eric smiles when he sees her. And then he smiles wider at Violet.

"Open up, pumpkin," he kneels down in front of her, spilling a dollop of medicine into the spoon. Violet clenches her jaw in irritation, but obeys. In less that a minute, he has her tamed and ready for sleep.

"Are you hungry?" Tris picks a quote to say from her hat of bright ideas. Violet obviously glares. But shakes her head.

"No," her answer is firm.

"Try and sleep through it," Eric begins to stroke her wavy hair. And like a lullaby, the gesture makes Violet flutter her eyelashes and drift off.

They both sneak out of her bedroom as quietly as possible, and "as quietly as possible" is not really possible when Eric weighs a ton. Tris manages not to creak any floorboards, leaving Eric in a spotlight as he pauses to close the door behind them.

"Ready for the best breakfast of your life?" Eric asks in the kitchen. His tone worries her a little. If her child was in Violet's position, she wouldn't be able to be humorous. She would freak out. Or maybe she is just a little paranoid. It is just a bug, after all.

"What are we having?" Tris smirks, taking a seat on a bar stool and swinging round to face him. Eric gets busy with the frying pan, moving the food around and even throwing in a little flip.

The kitchen is stuffy. It would bother her if she didn't live where she does. In an apartment where summer is present 24 hours a day. 365 days a year. The heat starts to fog up the kitchen window, but before it does, Eric flips a snazzy switch under a cupboard. And the air conditioning turns on.

Then he turns around with her meal in his hand. She sees eggs and bacon and waffles and pancakes. It is all separated but forms a pile on the plate. She gulps when he sets it down in front of her.

"Oh... I don't think I'll be able to eat so much," her voice quietens.

"No worries," he smirks, taking a seat opposite her with an even bigger plate. And a small bowl of oatmeal. Oh, okay. She was right about the protein rich diet then.

Feeling like a prune, she begins eating her meal. And mouthful after mouthful, the pile seems to have stayed the same. And she is nearly full. God, how embarrassing.

"Are you having coffee?" Eric asks, chewing a piece of bacon.

"No, I'll..." she gestures with her fork, "I'll just drink the syrup."

There is a long and awkward pause, and Tris begins to think that she must seem like some sort of freak. Getting fired for stealing food; drinking syrup instead of coffee. But when she decides to glance up, Eric is grinning widely, as if trying to contain a laugh.

With a cheek full of food, he says, "You're like Violet. You're weird."

"I'm not weird."

"Really?" he smiles.

"Yeah," she replies, "And Violet is not weird either." She licks her lips, "I mean, she is kind of high maintenance... but not weird."

"High maintenance?" he sounds like Tris has offended him somehow. But come on. He of all people should know what Violet is like. At that moment she decides not to sugar coat it.

"She's a lot of work," Tris states, holding his gaze. His eyes cloud with confusion.

"No... I don't think so..." of course he would say that.

Tris shakes her head, desperate to change the subject. The last thing she wants to do is offend him or his daughter. Maybe Violet is only rude when it comes to her. Maybe it's all an act, "I've been meaning to tell you..."

Eric leans in, swallowing his last mouthful. His plate is empty now.

"Something happened yesterday at school," she pauses, trying to find the words, "There was an incident with one of her classmates," Great, now she sounds just like Wendy. Swerving the hard to swallow facts. Trying to make reality seem better somehow.

Eric furrows his eyebrows, "What kind of incident?"

"She... um... she broke someone's finger?" It comes out like a question, making her unsatisfied.

He just sighs. And then nods. What an unpredictable man. She literally has no idea how he might react. Smile? Call her weird? Eat another plate of eggs?

"That's okay. It has happened before," he rubs his ever growing stubble. Seriously? And he disagrees with her for calling Violet high maintenance?

"Really? To the same kid?"

"Well, who was it this time?"

"Jason."

"Oh, Jason," Eric smirks, pinching the bridge of his nose. Tris purses her lips before puffing out a short breath. Okay. So this is normal.

"I'm sorry, was she always like this?" she blurts out.

Eric looks at her and then down at his empty plate, his face a blank canvas. Suddenly, Tris' blood drains from her face. How could she be so stupid? He probably thinks she is insinuating that ever since Violet's mother died, he was not able to have control. Oh, god, that is not what she was meant to make him think.

"No, she wasn't," he answers, his tone as harsh as she deserves it to be.

Tris flinches, covering her face with one hand, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"I may not be the dad of the year, but at least I am trying."

She bites her lip, "I know, I'm sorry-"

"Do you have any children?"

Tris looks up at him then, keeping her face like a stone, "You know I don't."

Eric clenches his jaw before looking away. He sighs heavily, starting to rub his stubble again. As if he was the one being unreasonable. She can hear his apology in the way he breathes. She wants to reach out and take his hand and tell him that he has nothing to apologize for. She was the jerk. She should not have brought anything up.

And now she can't even finish her meal. Because her stomach is too small. And his is too big.

For a second, he looks like he is about to say something. Like a confession. She keeps quiet, waiting for it to come up but it never does.

In the end, she says, "You're doing your best. That's all you can do." She half believes that. Maybe the R rated movies are redundant. Maybe he doesn't have to let her watch them. But she knows that the movies play the least important role in Violet's behavior.

He sighs again. And then there is a thud behind the wall.

Eric is up on his feet and out of the kitchen before she can say 'Violet'.

Tris follows. Obviously.

There is that familiar smell of vomit in the air as soon as she enters the room. Eric is sat on the edge of her bed, holding back her hair as she pukes up stomach acid into the bucket. Not knowing what to do, Tris crawls onto the bed and starts stroking Violet's back, feeling how her every muscle contracts and loosens when she coughs.

Eric looks over his shoulder at Tris when Violet becomes heavy in his arms, "Bring me a towel. And some tissues."

Tris follows his orders, managing to scoop up a box of tissues from the living room and a towel from the bathroom. She runs some cold water over it before squeezing most of it out.

"Thanks," Eric says, resting the wet towel on Violet's forehead. She coughs one more time before closing her eyes and turning into the most peaceful version of herself ever.

Tris whispers a couple of words about the tissues nearly being gone, but Eric confirms that there is one more box left in a cupboard.

He wipes Violet's mouth and forces her to take a sip of water before she has the chance to fall back to sleep.

"She's burning up," Eric whispers, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

"I'll open a window."

 **Guys, I wanted to make this a really long chapter but I was too excited and had to put it up like this.**

 **Tell me what you thought in the reviews :)**


	10. The Suppository

**You might be wondering where my inspiration for Violet came from, and I actually have an answer to that. My cousin. He is the most difficult child I have ever met. You guys have no idea. Violet is likable. But he is a nightmare.**

 **Trying something new. First person. Tell me if you prefer it to 3rd.**

It's around 1pm and Eric's gruff voice can be heard from the living room- on his phone. I think that my comment on Violet's behavior has had an aftershock on him. And maybe I will be treated like dirt for the rest of the day. It's not my fault his daughter is a brat! Why do bad things happen to people who speak the truth?

"He doesn't have a day. That report needs to be done by four," Eric growls into his phone, and I imagine him pacing the floor. His hand in his pocket. His brows furrowed. Scratching his stubble of stress from time to time.

It's a good thing he didn't go to work today. Violet needs him. But trying to work from home? I mean, multitasking? That can't work for him.

"I'll get back to you on that one," he says before I hear a small beep. It is silent for a brief moment. I decide to enter the living room. When he sees me, his face softens.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it," he replies, walking over to the doorway. He avoids my eyes when I smile at him.

"I think Violet needs a suppository," I blurt out. In that moment, I can tell that he is thinking whether to fire me or not.

"Why would you think that?" he asks slowly, a crease appearing between his eyes. His lips look dry from here, and I lick my own.

"Your medicine didn't seem to stop her fever. Maybe we should try something else," the edge in my voice surprises me. For a second, I feel my face heating up. Not in anger, but in fear of what he would do to me if I started being difficult.

Eric keeps his voice steady, but I see in his eyes that he is pissed off, "She will never let anyone stick anything up her butt."

"You're her dad, persuade her."

"We're not doing a suppository," he says slowly, tilting his head upwards. I look down because his glare seems to be burning holes in my head.

My chin juts out and I walk out of the room. No wonder Violet is out of control. Her father is just as stubborn as she is.

I regret my decision to abandon our conversation instantly. Because knowing Eric, he will just follow me and intimidate and intimidate. I turn around and oh! There he is! His eyes are hollow. He grabs my wrist and speaks in a hushed voice.

"Listen, if something is bothering you, you can just leave," his lips are near my ear, probably to ensure that Violet hears none of this. Even if she is in another room with her door closed. And asleep.

The words should hurt me. But instead they fire me up. I inhale his cologne and a faint scent of toothpaste. His fingers tighten around my wrist. Immediately, I shove him away.

"I'm trying to get that child back to her normal self. Or even better- her new self. Where she respects people-"

"She respects me, okay?" he raises his voice.

I don't know what has gotten into me, but I just keep exploding and exploding. My next sentence harsher than the previous. I don't think about the consequences.

"Does she?!" I flinch when he pushes me into the kitchen and shuts the door.

"Yes, she does."

"How? She gets away with everything! Because she knows that _daddy_ is a pushover!"

"You think I'm a pushover?" he raises his eyebrows, his eyes softening. As if he is amused by my outburst. It's not fucking funny!

"Yes! You'd think a man like you would take charge!"

"Take charge?" he folds his arms, muscles bulging.

"You know what, _daddy_?" I quieten down, feeling ridiculous for shouting in the first place, "We're doing a suppository whether she likes it or not. Because it is the only thing powerful enough to make her better."

Eric stares at me with an emotion I have not yet seen behind his eyes. He clenches his jaw and finally sighs, his minty breath all over my face. Has he been this close the entire time? I step back.

"You can do your suppository," he says, and my hopes jump up, "But only if you can convince her."

"I won't," I reply, knowing that for a fact, "We'll just have to hold her down."

An abrupt laugh rises from his chest, so powerful that it makes his head tip backwards. He steps closer to me, and I have no choice but to lean against the wall. Does he have any spacial awareness? Not that I mind or anything...

"I'm not forcing her to do what she doesn't want to," he murmurs, taking his time to look over my lips. I hold my breath, "And don't ever call me 'daddy'..." he speaks even quieter now, "Or I'll have to do something about it."

I break our eye contact, looking over his shoulder. He hovers around for a very long couple of seconds, his warm breaths tickling my skin. I nearly flinch.

"I'll go buy it then," I manage to squeak out, feeling his body press up against me like a feather. He is playing some kind of game. He is not trying to intimidate. He is trying to do something else.

I laugh because it seems like the most appropriate thing to do. He starts to smile slowly, pressing against me harder and harder. I run out of air to breathe and place my hands on his broad chest, pushing him away.

"Right... I'm gonna go now..."

Eric keeps his eyes on me, smirking as if he knows something I don't, "Go... please..."

"I am going," a giggle bursts from my mouth. His smirk widens, "I'll be back soon."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

I come back with a pack of five sticks. Thinking about the process makes me kind of anxious. But I know it needs to be done. For Violet's sake.

Eric is in the bedroom when I enter, Violet curled up in his arms, hair scattered out on the pillow. They both look up at me when I lean against the wardrobe. Eric's eyes are warm, expectant, still amused from the last time he saw me. Violet's are wide, raging, cold.

"Don't come near me," she says, her voice all nasal.

I want to roll my eyes but Eric is here. And it would be unprofessional. Yeah, like anything we did in the kitchen was professional. I have to fight my urge to smile.

"Violet. You want to get better, don't you?" I slow my words, like speaking to a psychopath who is holding a gun to somebody's head. You have to be slow. And careful. I even do the hand raise thing, making a shield.

"You are not sticking anything up my ass."

I sigh in frustration when Eric laughs. See?! Even now! Is he not going to scold her?

"Do you want to do it yourself?"

Violet pauses before replying. And I am dumb enough to think that she is considering it, "No, thank you."

"Eric," I raise my voice slightly, looking over at him.

He shrugs sympathetically before kissing Violet's forehead, "Consent is everything."

"Consent? This is a suppository! Not sex!"

And no, I do not regret using the 's' word in front of a child. For all I know, she has heard worse words. And maybe this is the only way to communicate with her. Through expletives and sarcasm.

"Get some sleep, honey," he whispers before getting off the bed and ushering me out of the room. I want to suddenly call Christina. The need for having somebody on my side has never been more urgent.

"Eric, this is ridiculous." He takes the pack off me.

"I'll do it,"

"You... wait, you will?" My eyes widen. Erm. No, I was not expecting that. He is probably joking.

"Yeah," he shakes his head sadly, opening the pack. I can tell that he means it. The humor from his eyes is gone. But my eyes shine with joy.

"Oh, my God. Okay," I breathe a sigh of relief and start backing away from him and the door. I feel like all of a sudden Violet could jump out and yell at me.

"If it doesn't work, we'll have to go back to my methods."

"What, paracetamol and cuddles?"

He glares playfully. I watch as he scans the instructions, tosses the white stick around in his hand, and then finally rests the box on a shelf full of statues.

"Do me a favor. Boil the kettle," he opens Violet's door, "This may take a while."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Thirty minutes and two cups of tea later, Eric appears before me, looking far too normal. He tosses some foil into the trash before taking a seat opposite me. I want to ask if he did it. I want to make sure that Violet's over-dramatic pleas didn't sway him. Before I can, he answers all the questions floating around above my head.

"I did it," he grabs a big mug, pouring some boiling water into it and accompanying it with a chunky teabag. He sips and finally raises his eyes to look at me, "She'll never forgive me. Or you. You especially."

I smile the widest I have all day, "That's okay. She'll feel better soon."

 **Well, this was about the most awkward thing I have written in a while. Tell me what you thought :)**


	11. The Bitch

**Thank you for the reviews :)**

The mood is tranquil in the afternoon, and Eric asks me if I want to go home. I say no, because in reality I have nothing better to do, but he seems to think otherwise.

Violet has been asleep for hours. I dared to sneak in and feel her forehead after the suppository started kicking in. She wasn't hot at all. She was fine. Like I said she would be.

After checking up on her, I informed Eric about her recovery. He was on the phone, but he seemed to ignore the caller when I was talking. And then after that, he started looking guilty. Like, why would I be here if I could be elsewhere? I insisted on staying.

"We had an argument... and so she grabbed the bowl and started carving her name into it with a knife. I mean- I didn't see her doing it. Otherwise I would have stopped her. Obviously."

"Obviously," I repeat, grinning as he sips the red wine from his glass.

"But yeah," a smile lingers on his lips as he looks off into the distance. He scratches his knee before leaning back against the couch, "And that actually stopped me from using the bowl. She owns it now, I guess. It pissed her off that I always ate from it."

I force a laugh, not being much of a talker. Now I know the story behind the violated bowl in the kitchen. The bowl Violet always eats her breakfast from.

Eric seems to hear the silence as it stretches on. He smiles at me. Opens his mouth to speak. And then smiles again.

"What?" I smile back, putting my glass of wine on the coffee table.

"I didn't say anything," he murmurs, draping his arm on the back of the couch. I try not to freak out. Because his arm is there. Behind me. I can feel the heat coming off of it.

The sun has turned pink, coloring the living room with a purple-ish glow. I can't quite see anything out of the window because I have sunk into the couch. And sitting up to get a better view seems like too much of an effort. Especially now that his arm is right behind me. So close. I wonder if he notices. I wonder if that's just a habit.

And then I freeze when I feel his fingertips tracing the back of my shoulder.

Goosebumps rise all over my arms. Automatically, I lean forward and grab my glass of wine.

God, he must think I am such a pussy. I can't even handle his skin on mine, how am I supposed to endure long conversations with him? He looks at me and he smiles at me... And I am supposed to pretend not to flush.

A knock on the door saves me. He gets up and leaves the room.

I relax for a moment, thankful for the solitude. But when I hear a woman's voice, I am everything but relaxed. And it isn't just a woman's voice. It's the Susan bitch.

I get up and storm up to the door, normalizing when I walk out of it. She sees me first.

"Why is she here?"

Oh, so she isn't going to hide her attitude? Better for me, I guess.

I put on a fake smile, walking up to Eric. He answers for me.

"She's Violet's nanny... remember?"

"Everyday?" Susan demands, folding her arms and smiling back at me. I try not to look at her black dress too much. It's tight around the middle, and shows off way too much cleavage. It cuts down nearly to her belly button. What's the occasion?

Eric smiles down at me before looking back at her, but she speaks before he can, "You won't mind if I steal him for a bit, will you?"

Her wink is playful, but it makes me want to curl my hands around her neck.

She starts speaking again, "I was worried when you didn't show up at work today."

"Violet is sick," he says, leaning against the wall in the hallway. I rest my hands on my hips, wondering when he will lose his patience with her. He doesn't seem enraged at all though. And that worries me.

"I see," Susan nods, glancing at me, "Well, what are nannies for, right?"

I drop my smile, desperately trying to pick it up when Eric looks at me. He raises his eyebrows. Asking. What the fuck? He can't be serious.

"Are you kidding?" I ask, unable to hide my annoyance.

Eric nods slightly, seeming to understand my side of the argument, "Wait outside, will you?"

Susan nods and catwalks out of the front door, her blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders. I wait until I can no longer sense her presence. And then I speak, "Violet is sick."

"Look, she probably wants me to catch up with work stuff. I gotta go."

"What-... Violet is sick," I repeat, more urgently.

Eric pinches the bridge of his nose, putting one hand on my shoulder, "No offense. But this is your job."

I press my tongue against the bottom of my mouth, "You called her, didn't you?"

I regret what I say the minute I say it. I sound jealous. And it's none of my business. Maybe work stuff is more important than a sick daughter, what do I know?

"Look, I'll be back in an hour," Eric breathes, picking up his jacket, "If things take a turn for the worst, call me. But they shouldn't.. your suppository worked, remember?"

There is a smile on his face, he is trying to soften me up but my smile has been on the floor for too long. Stomped on by Susan's designer heels.

"Yeah," I croak, my heart sinking. What choice do I have here, really?

"Tris," he says. His tone has changed, so I look up, "I'll see you later."

His hand finds my lower back, and for a second I think that he is going to pull me in for a hug. But he just strokes me there for a second and leaves. Whatever. I don't need his sympathy anyway.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Violet only wakes up at nine. Her father has been gone for quite some time. I try not to think about it.

"I'm thirsty," she whines, looking up at me with her tired eyes.

I smile and feel her forehead. No fever.

"I'll get you some water," I reply, picking up the boxes of medicine on her night stand. Looks like she won't be needing these anymore. She looks like she will sleep through the night anyway.

"Where's daddy?"

I pause for a moment, putting a smile on my face. Violet furrows her eyebrows, inheriting the 'no bullshit' face from her dad. Right. No bullshit.

"He went to discuss something with his work colleague," I nod, playing with the blanket. Violet scoffs.

"Are you blind as well as stupid?"

I roll my eyes, not really offended by her outburst. This is getting old. Nothing can surprise me.

"Violet-"

"It's Susan. He's fucking her."

"Violet, language!" I didn't intend to be so loud. Maybe it has something to do with her knowing her dad's personal life too much. Maybe I already knew that.

The girl shakes her head weakly and closes her eyes, obviously too exhausted to interact.

"I'll get you your water," I say, quieter. Then I get up and walk out.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Apparently, I have fallen asleep. Something sharp is poking my arm when I wake up. My head is pulsing with pain, so I take my time in opening my eyes. It's dark around me, and the only light I can see is coming off of Eric's phone. He puts it down on the coffee table before smiling at me.

I hear the sound of thin plastic crinkling near my arm, and when I look, there is a giant bouquet of tulips , all colorful, all soft and gentle.

I feel like I am still dreaming. Maybe I am. Except that there are no headaches in dreams.

My hand finds my forehead and I wince, slowly sitting up, "Sorry, I fell asleep."

"I don't blame you," Eric replies quietly.

So I'm not dreaming then.

I rub one of my eyes, self-conscious of how I must look. Thank god Eric was kind enough to keep the lights off.

He stays silent until I look at him, "I'm sorry I left like that... And I want to thank you for looking after Violet today... even though you didn't have to." He shoves the bouquet into my arms and I rest them on my lap, a bit speechless. I didn't know he was a sentimental person.

"No, it's... it's fine."

"No, it's not," I know he is talking about Susan, "I feel like a dick."

A smile breaks out on my face, making him smirk.

"Like you said... it's my job anyway,"

"I didn't mean what I said," he whispers, climbing up to sit next to me on the couch. My eyes start adjusting to the darkness and I can see him more clearly. He still has his jacket on.

"Violet is asleep," I change the subject, "She woke up to ask for a drink and then she fell back asleep." _But you would know that if you didn't leave._

Eric nods, guilt lingering beneath his eyes, "Thank you, Tris."

I nod.

"Do you want to stay the night?"

My heart skips a beat and I widen my eyes. But when he sees the look I am giving him, he shakes his head.

"I mean... because you fell asleep... you could just continue sleeping... in a spare room-we have a spare room,"

I laugh softly, shaking my head. Nice save. "No, I should be heading back."

"To your roommate?"

"Yeah... to my roommate."

"Well... drive safely," his voice dips a little, and I know why. He must have said the exact same thing to Violet's mother. And she never returned home.

 **Review and tell me what you thought :)**


	12. The Bug 2

**I'm so glad you guys are liking this story. And don't worry, I have so many more ideas for it ;)**

There is a scratch in my throat when I wake up. And a pulsing pain in my head when I make myself sit.

I look around the room. It's still dark... I look at my digital clock: 4:07am.

The place feels stuffy, so I get up and open the window. I do more than that actually. I hang half of my body out of it, enjoying the night breeze on my face, over my bare arms, inside my top. Soon, I start shivering, so I have to get back inside.

Conscience tells me that it would be a great idea to go back to bed. But I don't feel like sleeping.

I cough to clear my throat and end up swallowing foam. It makes me gag. I stand still, feeling my stomach flip upside down. And then I am running to the bathroom, puking up everything I ate the day before.

Christina makes me jump by putting her hands on my shoulders behind me.

"You're not pregnant, are you?"

"No, it's the stupid bug!" I cough into the toilet bowl, thinking that it will be over soon. But even after I emptied my stomach completely, I continue heaving like a cat, yellow bile dripping out of my mouth.

All I know is that I got it from Violet.

Does that mean Eric is sick too?

Christina sighs, and I imagine her behind me with a hand on her hip and a disgusted look on her face, "I'll get you some water."

"Thanks," I mutter, flushing the toilet.

Just in case of another round of vomiting, I stay by the toilet for a couple of minutes. My head is killing me. I can't think of anything but the pain. Is this the kind of pain Violet had to endure? Poor child.

I decide I won't go to work today. There's dealing with Violet. And then there's dealing with a bug. If you mix them together, bad things will happen.

Christina hurries back with the glass of water and helps me up to my feet. She doesn't face me, or stand close to me... and I know exactly what she is thinking, so I answer her question without her having to ask it, "You'll catch it too... stay away from me."

"Oh, charming," she grins, standing in the doorway as I get into bed. I drink the whole glass of water before putting it on the floor.

"Ugh... I can't believe this."

"Do you want me to call your sexy boss?" Christina smiles, tugging down her over sized bed shirt.

I widens my eyes. I have to call him. How did I not think about that?

"Where's my phone?"

Christina walks around my bed cautiously, finding it and handing it to me before running out of the door. I roll my eyes.

My throat feels swollen. I don't want to do any unnecessary talking. I text him instead.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

My phone starts going crazy after five minutes of me texting him. The throbbing in my head returns and I try to pick the vibrating block up without lifting my head. But it doesn't work. So I risk getting a concussion and sit up, groaning loudly when the phone is in my hand.

"Hello?" I croak, laying back down with a satisfied sigh.

"I got your text," Eric grumbles on the other line. How is he awake? Why is he always awake?

"Yeah," my voice cracks and I begin whispering. I clear my throat in frustration. When I speak again, my voice is nasal, "Must've got it from Violet."

"Wow... you sound bad," I hear him smile and close my eyes, not really feeling like talking. He speaks when the silence stretches on, "You girls are going to leave me jobless. That's another day I have to go without working."

It sounds like he requires comeback, so I feign a laugh. He sighs.

"Well... feel better soon, I'll let you get back to sleep."

"Thanks."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Next time I wake up, there is a smell of cologne in the air. A rustling of a plastic bag. The scent of fresh air. And Christina is talking to someone. I open my eyes.

Eric is sitting next to my bed with what looks like a bag of groceries in his lap. I jump when something beeps in my ear. Eric turns to me then, taking out a long stick from the side of my head. It's a thermometer.

He checks it quickly before looking back at Christina. She is babbling on about... a chicken? I think?

What the hell is going on? She let him in?

I remember what I generally wear to bed. A t-shirt that ends at my hips. Awkwardly, I fix the covers around me, hoping nobody saw anything while I was sleeping.

I don't see Violet, so I take it that she is at school.

Eric presses his warm hand against my forehead, and I flinch when my headache returns.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" Christina asks. I think she is talking to me until Eric smiles at her.

"I'm good," he says, "Bring one for Tris though."

I see that she is dressed in her work clothes- a tight shirt, mini skirt, knee-high boots and an apron. Her hair is put up into a bun, short bits hanging over her jawline. She looks stunning. I sigh.

Christina catches me looking at her and mouths an 'Oh, my God' while pointing to Eric. I try to hide my smirk as she leaves the room.

With her gone, Eric leans back in his chair (which Christina must have given him) and smiles at me. I feel like a kid in hospital.

"Thirty-eight," he says, holding up the thermometer, "We all know the cure for a fever."

I stay quiet, watching as he pulls out a box of suppositories, with a grin wider than Niagara Falls.

"That's really funny," I pull my blanket up to my chin and close my eyes.

"I'm not joking," he murmurs, setting them down on my nightstand. I open my eyes to see him looking around my room, like a caged lion. Where his living room would be is a wall. Where his kitchen would be, is a wall. I'm a tiny bit embarrassed by where I live, but right now I couldn't care less. I just want to feel better.

"I hope you're not here for long," I start, "Or Susan might come over, all worried you didn't show up for work."

Eric's smile falters, but he recovers just in time. Not fast enough for me though, "She won't."

"If she gets sick, you'll have to look after _her,_ "

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen either," Eric busies himself with opening a packet of paracetamol. He takes two tablets and gives them to me just in time for when Christina waltzes back in with my glass of water.

"I have to get to work," she sings, smiling as I down my pills, "You two have fun."

The way she says it makes me roll my eyes.

SHSHSHSHSH

I must have fallen asleep. Because when I wake up, Eric is shaking my shoulder, multicolored tablets in his hand.

"Take these," he whispers.

I knock them out of his hand groggily, my eyes sewn together by fatigue.

I feel his warm fingers trace my bottom lip before two bitter pills enter my mouth.

He whispers something to me before I feel my head being lifted up and water entering my mouth. I swallow.

SHSHSHSHSH

The water is rising from my stomach and I feel like I'm going to be sick. I open my eyes and hug the pillow tighter, praying that Eric is no longer here. He is.

As soon as he sees that I am awake, he leans forward, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Why does this not happen when I feel fine?

I close my eyes again, pressing my mouth against my wrist. Eric starts talking.

"I made you some dinner if you get hungry. You were out for quite a while... the fever is still there... I'm guessing you don't want a suppository?"

I force a smile, holding my breath, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"What, now?" he widens his eyes, sitting up.

I nod, knowing that the water inside me is rising like a fountain. I will vomit in front of my boss. The hottest guy alive. And the strange thing is... I really don't care. He wanted to look after me, so that's exactly what he will have to do.

"Will you make it to the bathroom?"

Fuck, no. I shake my head, starting to get a little impatient. He does realize that I can't control it, right?

Eric hesitates for a second and then I hear him leave the room. He comes back and there is a thud on the floor near my bed. Bucket.

I furrow my eyebrows when he grabs a fistful of my hair. I feel him tying something around it. Whatever it is, it keeps it back.

And then I throw up, nearly missing the bucket. Eric holds me around the waist, his hand drawing circles on my back. I hear him say something about hitting the target.

SHSHSHSHSH

Three glasses of water later, Eric offers me dinner. And I decline.

"If I eat, I'll probably just throw up again,"

He nods, seeming to understand. I smile, feeling much better after throwing up. My fever is still burning me up, but I feel so much better.

There is a knock on the door. I rub my eyes, glancing at Eric.

"I'll get it," he says, pausing momentarily to touch my hand. Is he feeling guilty about the Susan incident? Because what would drive a man to clean up vomit after a stranger, unless he wants to repay me somehow...

Four emerges from behind the door, making me do a double take with my water. He has a sack of oranges in his hand and a grin on his face, "Christina told me you were sick."

Christina told him.

Eric appears a second later, looking past him and directly at me. He shrugs.

"Why didn't you call me? You know I don't work on Wednesdays," Four sits in Eric's chair, wrinkling his nose at the smell in the room. This couldn't be more awkward...

"Erm... Eric, this is my friend. Fou- Tobias," I correct myself, holding back from letting him in on our inside joke.

Eric nods curtly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Four turns in his chair, nodding back. And then it's over. Like they have hated each other since birth.

"I brought some oranges," Four says, picking up the thermometer on the nightstand, "I've read somewhere that they help with recovery."

I watch Eric behind him, pretending to be fascinated with my wardrobe. Stroking it up and down. Four continues rambling on.

"Have you eaten anything? Do you want dinner?"

"No," Eric answers for me, causing Four to look back at him, "I just asked her the same thing. She said no."

Tobias nods slowly, as if something is unclear. Maybe it's because I am not speaking. Only when I start, Eric cuts me off.

"I have to go," he says blankly, "I need to pick Violet up from school."

"Yeah, okay," I nod a bit too enthusiastically, getting my headache back, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"If you're better," Eric grins, disappearing out of sight. Four waits for the front door to close before speaking to me.

"Am I missing something?"

I smile apologetically, "He's my boss."

A switch flicks inside his head and he nods. But then shakes his head, "I wish my boss was that nice."

I laugh fakely, unable to shake that awkwardness away. Still.

He touches my cheek, and I think that he is going to pull away... because that's what Eric would do. But he doesn't. He leans closer. I feel bile rising up in me again.

"I..." he laughs, flipping to his puppy eyes mode, "I miss you, Tris."

My lips press together tightly, and I look down. He's been so eager lately, what is happening?

"Tris," he repeats, taking his hand in mine. I have to look up at him. And when I do, I only see hurt and betrayal. I close my eyes. Then his breath is on my lips. I jerk away.

A new presence enters the room. The familiar scent of cologne. It can't be Four. Four doesn't smell half as nice.

"Forgot my coat," Eric states. I look to the doorway only to catch sight of his tattooed arms. Disappearing.

 **Drama llama. Review :O**


	13. The Confrontation

**Thank you for the positive feedback, I really appreciate it :)**

The next morning I am feeling much better. My head is still hot, but the sickness has disappeared. I start getting ready for work.

Christina walks into the room, holding a cup of coffee with both hands, "Are you gonna go see your boss?"

She gives me a playful wink, making me roll my eyes. I have yet to confront her about what has happened yesterday. If she hadn't told Four I was sick, he would have never come and tried to make out wit me. Like I am some sort of sex toy. I was sick!

"Did you talk to Four yesterday?" my lips are pursed as I folds my pajama bottoms.

Christina pauses for a moment, "Yeah, he came to the bar," I look up and see her leaned against the door frame, "Why?"

"He came here and tried to kiss me," there is no point dragging this out. I have work soon anyway. And I do not enjoy these kind of conversations.

Her response is what I expected it to be- she shrugs. She doesn't care. It's not like she ever liked him anyway. Nothing was real. Poor Tobias.

"What's new?"

I smirk, rolling my eyes, "I thought he was over me."

"Tobias? Come on, Tris. This is Tobias we're talking about. He'll never be over you."

"That's not making me feel better."

"Maybe you can bed Eric and that way Tobias will leave you alone."

"What are we, in 9th grade?" She smirks as I laugh, "Look, I have to go."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Nerves seize my whole body as I knock on Eric's front door. He buzzed me in downstairs without a word, and I got a whole lot of bad vibes from his silence. So now I'm slightly nervous. Will he be mad at me for Tobias trying to kiss me? I intend to clear the whole thing up. I will tell him that there is nothing going on between us. Even though I shouldn't have to explain myself. His whole affair with Susan is far worse than any one of my problems could ever be. Why should I explain myself?

There are footsteps on the other side of the door, and I tell myself that I will keep a straight face. I will tell him everything. I won't sugarcoat it.

But when he does open the door, my smile is inevitable. I greet him like I always do before walking in. His face is blank. No emotion. That's when my smile falters.

"Feeling better?" he asks, picking up his shoes. Is he leaving right now? A bit early, isn't it?

I pause, trying to find a way to make myself sound smarter than usual, "I think I still have a fever."

Eric furrows his brows, "And you think it's a good idea to be around a child?"

His tone is irritable. I shrug it off.

"I doubt she will get sick again."

He stays silent, tying the laces of his shoes without sitting down. I have this weird urge to jump on his back. But that would be a bit weird. I wonder how he'd react.

The apartment is silent as usual. Violet is asleep. She wakes soon though. In about thirty minutes.

The front door opens and I turn to look. He's leaving. Okay... That's fine. No goodbye. I'm not offended. For a second I feel like he is going to wave or smile... something. But he just leaves.

So I walk to the kitchen and start preparing Violet's breakfast. Mostly thinking about Eric and his snappy mannerism this morning. Is he on his man-period? Or is he just pissed off about Four?

I accidentally spill some milk onto the floor when my hand twitches in anger. This is all because of stupid Susan! She has brain washed him so much, and now he is showing contempt to me. I hate Susan. But I hate Eric more. For the way he makes me feel. For making him be on my mind 24/7.

Exhausted from bending down and mopping up the spillage, I force myself to sit on the bar stool. And then Violet comes in with the widest eyes in the world. I can tell she is either going to complain or swear before she actually does.

"Okay, what did you do?!"

I fold my hands on my lap, spinning on the bar stool, "What?"

Violet brushes her soft hair out of her face, storming over and sitting opposite me, as if we were high schoolers, plotting revenge on someone. Violet puts on her business face- presumably inherited from her father. It is quite a juxtaposition to her pink pajamas.

"From the moment daddy picked me up from school yesterday, he was pissed!"

"You mean drunk?" my eyes widen.

"No!" Violet almost yells, "He was mad at me!"

I rub my forehead, "Right... if you don't stop swearing, I will get you a swear jar."

"I don't own money, dumbass."

I open my mouth to scold her, but she carries on talking.

"I told him to fuck off with his mood swings," I roll my eyes then, "but he grounded me!"

"And you are surprised why?"

Violet clenches her jaw, "He never grounded me before. I couldn't have been the underlying cause of his anger. And neither could Susan. She just shows her tits and everything is fine!"

I stand up and shake my head, "Violet-"

"So it has to be you! You made him angry and now he is pissed at everyone!"

"Me?! Does he not know any more people? Does he not have any friends?"

"He is not a people person," she tilts her head to the side, innocence growing in her eyes.

"First of all, watch your mouth," I point my finger to her, "Second of all, I did not make your father angry. Maybe you did? Think back, Violet."

"I'm his treasure. That's just not possible."

I run a hand down my face, trying to understand what the hell is going on. If Eric is "mad" at me, then it has to be because of Four. I see no other reason.

SHSHSHSHSH

Violet surprises me by doing her homework after school. I feed her chicken. And then we watch TV (on separate sofas). I've been half paying attention to the murder mystery program. When a dead body came up on the screen, I was too late to cover her eyes. But then again, it's nothing she hasn't seen before.

I've been half paying attention because of Eric. Stupid Eric. He has been stressing me out without even being here.

He didn't call me. He always calls me. He makes time when he is at work. And today he made no time at all to ring me. To ask me about Violet.

I've been getting angrier by the second. It's useless, I know. I shouldn't get involved with him anyway. He has Susan. I have nothing to be angry with.

He returns home at midnight. Later than usual. I'm not surprised.

I take his approach to life- I start getting dressed as soon as he shuts the door. I don't look up at him when I pass him in the hallway. I put on my shoes and coat. Behind me, he starts writing a cheque. $100. Ten times less than what he usually pays me. I know it's ridiculous, but I am kind of disappointed. Compared to what he usually pays me, this is nothing. I am ungrateful and I hate myself for it. So I speak.

"A hundred dollars?" my voice is strained. When did I get this selfish?

Eric faces me, his growing bread making him look like Wolverine, "Is that not enough?" His voice is strained also. But not by selfishness. It's anger.

"It's not what you usually pay me."

"Maybe you should look for a job elsewhere then," he flexes his arms, fatigue on his face. I get so angry that I have trouble controlling the wobble in my voice.

"I would, but then who would look after Violet?"

"Susan."

"Ha!" Yes, I actually laugh. He's not serious, is he?

He drops the bag he was holding, towering over me in the most intimidating way, "Listen. My life is none of your business-"

"And mine isn't yours."

He flinches slightly before placing both hands on the wall behind me, cutting out all the light from my view. "What are you talking about?"

"You know. I'm not stupid," I hit one of his arms, hoping he will lower them so I can slip away. He doesn't. So I carry on talking. Speaking the truth, "You're making Violet unhappy."

"What does Violet have to do with any of this?" his voice is louder. I look down, feeling his hot breath on my face. Maybe I shouldn't have brought her up. The last thing I want is to make him angry. Well... angrier.

"You left her!" I whisper-yell, backing up against the wall, "She was sick and you went out to fuck that woman-"

"You should take more time to think before making assumptions-"

"I'm not making the assumptions! Your daughter is!"

That seems to shut him up. Something flashes in his eyes. Realization of being a bad parent? The feeble attempts to hide such personal things from his child? Whatever it is, he backs away from me, starting to rub the hair on his chin.

I sigh, taking his cheque and storming out of the door.

 **Please review :)**


	14. The Visit

**Here is chapter 14.**

 **Enjoy :)**

I stand in front of Eric's apartment building. Friday. End of the week. If he fires me today, at least it will be concluded somehow. And then I can go back to being jobless Tris.

For Violet's sake, I hope he keeps me. That girl needs discipline. And I am pretty sure I could be a good start.

I punch in his apartment number and he buzzes me in. Okay. So far, so good.

In the elevator, I brush down my velvet black skirt. It ends at my ankles. Kid-friendly. Pfft. Can you imagine what kind of skirts Susan would wear if she had the job? It would be like Disney Junior and Pornhub mixed together. Eric wouldn't notice.

For once, I am wearing heels. They are not really big. I keep my height. After the whole 'towering over me' incident yesterday, I want to appear taller. I want to have the upper hand. I won't intimidate, but I will feel more confident.

When I get to his front door, it is already open. Eric is standing there, wearing an apologetic smile. In my opinion, anyway. I smile back.

"Come here," he says quietly, stepping back to let me in. His beard is growing everyday. I wonder if he is allowed a non-clean look at his job.

His hand rests on my back, paralyzing me for a moment. I get used to it soon enough, enjoying the feeling. When I think that he will back away, he just presses into me more, until eventually I have no choice but to be pushed farther into his apartment. He leads me into the spare bedroom he always talks about but never shows me. The door clicks closed behind us and for a second, I panic.

But then he moves away from me and goes to sit on the bed. I stand near the door in case everything starts going south.

The bedroom is pretty ordinary, but way too floral for Eric's taste. I imagine Susan coming to sleep here from time to time, and scowl.

Like a therapist, Eric rests his elbows on his knees and folds his hands in front of him. He speaks quietly, almost whispering.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday," his eyes glue to the floor, "I had a really long day. It all got to me."

I stay silent because I know he can do better.

His eyes flick up to mine, "I didn't mean what I said. Your presence here is more than needed."

That's when I finally let my shoulders drop and smile. He notices and smiles back.

"Does that mean I am forgiven?"

"I'll think about it," but the smile on my face says it all.

Well, that's gone better than expected. Considering I was preparing myself for a whole speech on how I am not a very good candidate to be working with children.

Eric sighs happily and scratches his beard before sharply standing up. I know that if that was me, I would have become very dizzy. His eyes are someone else's, like he has been rehearsing his apology, or maybe stealing it for a famous movie or book. I never know what he is thinking.

The door suddenly opens and pushes me forward towards Eric. I stumble for a second but recover quickly enough in case Eric decides to catch me. I'd love for us to touch, but so soon after a fight? Nah.

I turn and there stands Violet, leaning lazily against the door frame. She sees me first and furrows her eyebrows, "Why are you in here?"

Eric changes the subject, "Grounded children don't get to ask questions."

Violet rolls her eyes.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

The day rolls by quite casually. I get bored quickly. And that is when the idea strikes.

It doesn't take long to search Eric's apartment, considering that I am the only one here and nobody can stop me. It's a rush really, doing stuff you shouldn't be doing.

I find a letter from his work but refrain from reading the details. He needs his privacy, I'm not that nosy. The address is written in a small black font at the top of the page. 34 Lexi Plaza. Not too far from here.

Making sure that I have picked up my mobile phone, I leave the apartment, having only three hours until I need to collect Violet from school. It's Friday and she has dance class. The after school activity buys me more time. I still find it odd that a girl like Violet would enjoy dance class. That is one of the few things she has kept to support her innocence.

I drive up to the tall building and check the address on Google Maps. This is it. Definitely. This is where he works. The building is as tall as his apartment building, only this one has more glass and more men walking in and out of the entrance, some wearing suits, some wearing gym clothes, some shirtless and sweating. I know if this was Eric, I would recognize him by the tattoos, but none of the other guys have as many as he does. Some have none at all.

And then I see her.

A shudder runs down my body as I watch her bouncing away from the building, wearing a low cut blouse and black trousers. Her hair is neatly brushed into a bun. She looks like she always does. Stupid Susan. God, I hate her.

I wait for her irritating self to walk to her jet black jeep and drive away until I declare that this is my cue to make myself present. Compared to some women here and there, I look like a housewife from the 1940's, while they look like smart and modern business women. Feeling self-conscious, I tie my hair up into a high ponytail to fit into the whole 'smart looking' context.

Once I get to the entrance, I see that there is this huge reception made out of this blue stained glass. Once the air conditioner hits me, I start to understand why the theme of this building is cold colors.

I stop because I don't know where to go. Where does Eric work? Which floor? There are loads of them. So I decide that asking at the reception would be the best idea.

"Erm, excuse me?" I walk up to the reception, finding it a bit suffocating when I see that the receptionist is a woman who looks exactly like Susan. Same hair, same choice of dress, same fake smile. Eric is Christian Grey. That is the conclusion. I fold my arms on the counter and smile, "Where can I find Eric Coulter's office?"

"Do you have an appointment?" she types something on her keyboard, raising a brow.

"Err, no but he's my friend..."

"I'm sorry, you can't see Mr Coulter unless you have an appointment."

The water shimmering down a wall behind her distracts me for a moment, "Can you just ring him and tell him that Tris is here?"

The receptionist pouts, taking me in with her bright blue eyes. She sighs, picking up the phone. I smile a thank you and step back, looking around at all the sweaty hunks walking out of what I perceive as a gym.

"Mr Coulter, sorry to disturb you. There is a girl here claiming to be Tris?" A girl? I clench my jaw. Why is everyone a bitch here? "Yes... yes... thank you, sir."

She hangs up and looks back up at me, fixing her false smile.

"Well?" I ask rudely. She ignores it.

"He will be downstairs in just a moment."

I wait for two more minutes before he comes out of the nearest elevator, tugging his black suit forward. He smiles, which is a good sign. "What are you doing here?" He doesn't speak as if I am a nice surprise. Not a 'girl' showing up to weigh him down on this busy day.

I shrug, because really... I don't have a reason. I can't just say 'I wanted to see you', can I? It will make me sound like his lover... or girlfriend... and I don't want to face rejection in case his face changes from content to contempt.

Eric slides an arm around my waist, which surprises me. But I just laugh and let him lead me outside.

"It's my lunch break. Care to join me?"

We walk onto the shiny cobbled path, my heels clicking against the liqueur applied to the ground. The sun shines down on us and I wonder how he isn't roasting in his suit. As if on cue, he uncurls his arm from me and shrugs off his blazer, tossing it over his shoulder.

"Was everything alright with Violet in the morning?"

"Yeah, she... behaved," I finally find the right word. He smiles down at me, unlocking his car when we are steps away from it.

We both get in: him in the driver's seat and me next to him. There is more space here than in my car, which I envy quite a lot. There is a minty smell in the air, and then I see a dangling smiley face on the rectangular mirror and know where it's coming from.

He makes small talk until we get to a parking lot of a cafe. It only takes five minutes to get there, so the small talk doesn't last for long. "I'll be right back." He leans in and for a moment I think that he is going to kiss me, but then I see that he is retrieving a wallet from the glove compartment.

He returns as quickly as he leaves, two paper bags in his hand, one paper cup in the other. On one of them I can see black writing _**Mr. Coulter- regular.**_

He slams the door behind himself and hands me the second bag, "I didn't know what you wanted so I got you a sandwich."

"Oh, no, you didn't have to-"

"Relax," he smirks, placing his steaming coffee into a cup holder, "It's lunch. Not a diamond ring."

 **Oh, oh, oh ;) Review.**


	15. The First Move

We get back to his workplace and I almost stumble.

"What?" Eric smirks, opening a dark wooden door into a room.

"You have... another office?" I walk in, and the light blinds me. He has a whole wall dedicated to glass. Actually, as I look at it, there isn't much wall at all. Just glass. And an amazing view of the city.

"I spend most of my time here," he shrugs like it's no big deal and leads me to a couch. It's low and cosy, with a cute glass coffee table to accompany it. I sit at one end and Eric sits at the other, knees apart. I open my brown bag and smirk when I see that he didn't just buy a sandwich. There is also a muffin, an apple and a bar of chocolate. "It's Eric."

I look up, thinking that he is talking to me, but he is looking out of the window, an ear piece on the side of his head. I look back down as he stands, shoving his hands into his pockets. This could be a great opportunity for me to eat without him looking. I have a thing with eating around people. In silence. It can turn awkward, well... most of the time I make it awkward. I bite into my apple first.

Eric starts repeating numbers and talking about files. Abruptly, he takes his ear piece off and walks back to me, sitting closer than he did before, "Sorry, I can't have a lunch break without being wanted."

I smile, watching as he takes out a sandwich out of his own bag.

We eat pretty fast, as if our life depends on it really. Maybe he is in a rush to get back to work. I won't be surprised. He is a business man. He looks like a business man and acts like a business man. People know his name around here. He has regulars at the nearby cafe. Everything is timed.

How can he have two offices? I guess the one I was interviewed in had more of a home vibe to it. Violet was there in the spare room. I still remember the TV playing behind her.

I look over at his desk on the other side of the room. Violet is there. Not in person. But her picture is there.

"How did you know where I work?"

Eric slings his arm behind me on the couch, tilting his head to the side, like a confused dog. How am I going to answer that?

"Oh... I er, found a letter... in the kitchen... it was there and I saw the address," I shrug one shoulder, playing the smooth liar card.

"Oh," Eric sighs, "Well, I'm glad you found that letter."

I smile, avoiding his eyes. If I look, I will fall into them. Remember what Christina always says! Play hard to get!

I cross my legs, brushing my skirt down nervously. He seems to notice. He clears his throat.

"You know... I still got thirty minutes of lunch break," his voice is softer and more sensual. I have to look at him then. My response is fairly quick.

"Maybe you should call Susan."

He sighs loudly, running a hand down his patch of facial hair. I hear him scratching the skin on his face, "What are you suggesting?"

I feel an argument brewing already, so I decide to drop it, "Nothing."

He talks again, "I apologized."

"I know."

"I want to make it up to you," he leans forward, the sun from outside coating one side of his face.

"Then make it up to me," one of my brows raises automatically, as if I have been rehearsing for a role of a very sultry woman. Except, I am a bad actress.

His breath hitches and the atmosphere shifts. I feel dizzy all of a sudden, watching him lean into me. His warm hand rests on one of my knees, going higher and higher and riding the material of my skirt up in the process. I giggle slightly when his index finger touches my hip, his hand still on my thigh.

"What?" he smirks, and all I can see is how dark his tattoos are through his white shirt. I turn my head to the side when his breath reaches my nose, "What?" he repeats, squeezing my leg. I shudder, squeezing my thighs together.

"This is really inappropriate," I whisper, putting a hand on his chest to stop him from leaning further. He doesn't frown or anything. Which makes it easier for me to reject him.

"So?"

I feel how hot his skin is beneath his shirt. I feel his tender muscles as he breathes.

Then I think of Violet, and all of my desire is put on hold.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

He isn't mad at me when I leave. He isn't mad at me when I leave him with Violet that evening.

"Bail me out," Violet whispers before I make it to the door. I smirk, remembering how she doesn't have much experience in being grounded. Eric walks me out into the hallway and hands me my cheque. I smile and take it, like nothing happened earlier today. But then he has to bring something up.

"I'm not working tomorrow," he can't take his eyes off me. I look away for him.

"That's great."

"Will I see you?"

I smile slowly, swaying in the doorway like I have all the time in the world, "Well, I'm not working tomorrow."

Eric grins, stepping closer, "You know what I mean. Will I see you?"

I nod, satisfied with the joy I add to his face, "What time?"

 **I hope you appreciate the bonus chapter today ;) Review.**


	16. The Rain Part 1

**What you have all been waiting for. A little bit of Eric's POV ;) Rated M from now onward. Not my fault. It's Eric. He is the dirty one.**

 _Eric_

She wraps her mouth around the head, her hand stroking the base of my cock. I throw my head back, feeling myself starting to lose it.

With a jolt, I wake up, white sheets warm and moist underneath me. This can't keep happening. Tris was right. Inappropriate is the only word that can accurately describe this. I know it was just a dream, but it reoccurs. Every night. She is my employee. She is Tris. This is wrong.

I run my hand down my face, rain drumming against the bedroom window. It is dark outside, but it could be due to the weather. I look at my digital clock. 9am.

I move my hips and feel the boner between my legs. Of course. Those dreams. They are haunting.

SHSHSHSHSH

After jerking off in the shower, I walk into Vi's bedroom, a towel wrapped around my waist. She is in bed, awake, a book propped up on her legs. From this angle, I can't see what the title is.

"Morning," I smile, sauntering over to her window to shut it, "What are we having for breakfast?"

There is a loud sigh behind me, so I turn to look at her displeased face.

"I'm not talking to you," she says. Violet is definitely not a morning person. But if she has decided to fall out with you as well, you're screwed. I get closer, kissing her head.

"Get mad all you want. It won't make you any less grounded," this makes her look up at me. Her eyes are filled with sleep but the rage makes her look more awake than she is.

"You're a demon," she puts her book down. It shuts, the back of it on show, the title pressed against the mattress.

"That's not a nice thing to say," It doesn't bother me.

"Ugh! What am I going to do all day locked in my room?!"

"You won't be in your room. Tris is coming over," I smile slightly and Violet raises her eyebrows.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Are you working again?"

"No," I answer. She seems to be getting more and more confused. I walk over to the door, running a hand through my wet hair, "We're gonna hang out. All of us."

SHSHSHSHSH

 _Tris_

Violet opens the front door when I knock, and I am immediately on edge. Where is Eric? Did she finally kill him?

"What are you doing here?" She asks, hands on hips. She looks cute and harmless but I know better. Her hair is braided into two plats which snake down her shoulders. She is wearing a baggy shirt that reaches her knees. Her feet are bare.

"Your father invited me over," I shrug, keeping my smile on, "Look, I got you some berries," I pull a plastic tub out of my handbag, giving it to her. She takes the tub, examining the blueberries inside. Originally, I was going to get some chocolate, but I know that she has been spoiled enough. Besides, berries are tasty too.

"Why would he invite you over? Did you fuck him?"

Behind her, Eric shows up, grinning from ear to ear. It distracts her enough that I can push past her and ignore her foul language. I greet Eric as she goes into the kitchen, opening the tub in the process. Good. She dropped it. I don't know why I feel so defensive, it's not like we actually... fucked. But her saying that makes me think that fucking him is possible. It's real. And I should walk away. But I can't.

"Did you walk here?" Eric smirks, helping me take off my drenched coat. I flinch away when his warm flesh makes contact with my freezing skin.

"No, I ran from my car to the entrance,"

"And you managed to get this wet?" He puts my coat onto the nearest radiator to dry. I stroke my hair, trying to flatten the frizz. The weather has been like this since nightfall. The darkness outside flows in, and we have to turn on the lights. In the distance, I hear a clap of thunder.

Violet comes through glaring daggers at me. I roll my eyes. She takes her father's attention off me at least. He has been staring like a crazed lion.

"Daddy, I want to order a pizza," she grabs his hand and he picks her up, kissing her cheek.

"In a minute, let me give Tris some dry clothes,"

"Wait, I thought she was grounded," I say, wiping some rain water off my cheek.

Eric walks past me with Violet in his arms, grinning, "Doesn't mean she has to starve."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

The rain has been relentless. It drums down like empty shells from a shotgun, creating puddles bigger than the Nile. Eric hands me a white jumper, which looks like it belongs to a woman. I raise an eyebrow as I take it.

"Susan left it here once," he says, closing the wardrobe in his bedroom. I nod, my heart sinking. Susan. And I'm just supposed to wear her shit? "Are your jeans wet as well?"

Eric turns, looking into my eyes.

I shake my head, stepping back for some space. He is involved with Susan. I can't make a move. I don't know why I felt like I could. There is just so much in our way.

"Is something wrong?" Eric asks, folding his inked arms over his chest. I look away.

"No,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I look down at the jumper again, feeling how soft and warm it will be against my skin. I look up at Eric, but he has closed his eyes.

"Put it on. Before you catch a cold."

I don't move. Obviously, I'm not getting dressed in front of him. I don't know what he must be thinking. "Why am I here?"

Eric's eyes soften and his shoulders sink. It's like I've disappointed him somehow. The thought of always trying to please him pisses me off. And then I get angry. Maybe I'm getting my period...

"Because I want you here," his hand hovers by mine, radiating warmth.

"I don't understand," I flinch away, seeing how inch by inch, he is getting closer to me. I think of Violet watching TV in the other room.

"What don't you understand?" his voice is lower, his breathing is heavier. My shirt is still wet, clinging onto me.

"You're clearly involved with Susan," I start, looking away, "I don't want to... ruin anything-"

"We're just friends," he says, stepping back, "You and me." I think I misheard him. Did he just...? Did he say that me and him are friends? Just friends?

It's like a punch in the gut. I let out a sigh, feeling stupid. Of course we're just friends. I should leave him and Susan alone then. But why does he always act to intimate around me?! As if we're lovers? I get riled up all over again.

"Then keep your distance, friend," Eric furrows his eyebrows, looking confused, "I want to keep my job. And I want to not get involved in your relationship with that-... Susan," I bite my tongue, trying to keep my anger under control.

I mean, it clearly makes no sense. He is an enigma. Why is he leading me on?

"What's wrong with a threesome?"

At that point, I have stormed out of the room, throwing Susan's stupid jumper at his face.

Behind me, I hear him laughing, "Come on! I was joking! Tris- where are you going?"

...Maybe I _am_ getting my period.

 **Review ;)**


	17. The Rain Part 2

I find an over sized shirt in the laundry basket. It isn't dirty and it doesn't stink, so I put it on. The white jumper belonging to Susan gets thrown into a corner. I sigh, rubbing my face in frustration. What an absolute moron. I pause for a second to remember what I find so attractive about him. Definitely not his sense of humor.

I look into their bathroom mirror, fixing my hair so that it looks at least average.

There is a gentle knock on the door.

"Leave me alone!" I shout, growling under my breath.

The door clicks and opens, revealing a timid Violet. I bite my lip, walking over and crouching down in front of her. She doesn't seem upset. Just a bit quiet. Before I can apologize for my outburst, she asks, "Did you have a fight with daddy?"

"No!" my answer is immediate, "We didn't fight... we just... we disagreed on something," I pull Violet into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her, "Does he seem mad?"

"Yeah," she widens her eyes, tutting, "Now you'll be grounded too."

"I won't be grounded," I smirk, "I'll leave, okay? I'll see you on Monday."

"You're leaving me alone with him?!" She rolls her eyes and runs a hand down one of her braids. "It's a Saturday! I should be having fun-"

"Well, I'm sure your dad can be fun," I stand properly, taking a good look at myself in the mirror before looking back down at her. And then I can't help but smirk. She could be booting me out of this apartment, but instead she wants me to stay. For all the wrong reasons I'm sure, but it feels good to be wanted.

"Stay and order my pizza. Keep him in a good mood. If you leave, he'll take away my privileges!"

"Violet, he wouldn't do that-"

"Wouldn't he?" Violet gives me a look, tilting her small chin up to the ceiling.

Let's see... Going home and having a high possibility of Four visiting and trying to get into my pants, OR stay here, enjoy the weekend, and have a high possibility of getting pizza.

I purse my lips before sighing loudly, "I'll stay. But only for an hour or so-"

"Yes!" she fist-bumps the air and scurries out of the bathroom. I roll my eyes, wrapping my arms around my waist. Just when I thought that kid couldn't get anymore unpredictable.

SHSHSHSHSH

When I am out of the bathroom, finally having the courage to get in Eric's face and tell him what I really think, I find him pacing the kitchen. On his phone. Talking. "What do you want? ... Yeah, she's with me... no, I can ask Tris... yeah..."

The rage inside me spills over like lava in a volcano. I know who he is talking to. And I know what it is about. No, I definitely have to say something.

Eric sees me and his eyes skim over my face, like he doesn't actually see me. But I know he does. He looks uncomfortable. Because I know that he is going to ask me for a favor. I can see that he doesn't want to.

"Okay, bye," his phone beeps and he puts it into the charging station on the counter. Then he looks at me, "I have to go."

"You do realize that this is my day off?" I try to keep my voice under control, but the anger makes it wobble. Eric sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"I'll pay you extra. Just look after Violet for an hour or so-"

"I don't care about the money, when will you understand?"

He stops and his eyebrows furrow. Uh-oh.

"What exactly is not living up to your expectations? The pay is good. You're not getting abused. The child you look after is not a new born-"

I shake my head, the anger deflating slightly. He has good points. My rage is coming from a personal side. And if I complain, I will sound pathetic. Well, I already do.

"I am going to see Susan regarding _work,_ " he puts emphasis on the word, "And I am going to be back in an hour. Do your job."

He brushes past me, tense muscles nudging my shoulder. I take a deep breath in... and then out. I see him out. I go to Violet. I sit next to her on the couch. I order the pizza. And then she asks if I am interested in 'skinning that whore'.

SHSHSHSHSH

 _Eric_

The rain is still hammering down when I kill the engine in an empty parking lot. Susan looks over at me, smirking. Her hair is down today, blonde locks curling near her shoulders. Her dress is less formal today. Just a simple pair of jeans and a button-down red shirt. I notice that her fingernails are painted red as well.

She starts purring, unbuckles her seat belt and leans in slightly, "You look tense."

I stop stroking my beard, tilting my head back against the leather seat, "What do you want?"

"I brought you some cupcakes," there is a box on her lap, which she opens to reveal 6 red-velvet cupcakes. I raise a brow, concerned by how much she looks like a love-sick puppy. This has to stop. But I take the box and put in on the back seat.

"I hope this is about that agenda I asked off you weeks ago," she shakes her head slowly, biting her lip.

"Sack me if you want," she climbs over onto my seat, her heels scratching at the leather interior of my car. I pretend that doesn't bother me, "I've been a bad girl."

She straddles me, not wasting any time with my belt buckle. I look away when one of her hands curls in my hair, "Stop that."

I grab her wrists before she can do anything else. Her eyes lock with mine. Her breath tickles my face.

"You liked it last time," her voice nearly whines. I look down at where her hips rock on my lap.

"This has to stop," I speak my mind. Susan does not look a little bit insulted. Perhaps she is not taking me seriously? Her lips press against mine, but I push her away. This gets her attention. She looks wounded, "No. Stop."

"I don't understand, why don't you want me?" her hands stroke up and down my chest, desperate to make me feel something, "Is it the car? We can go to my place if you want-"

"No, I don't want this-"

"Then what do you want?!" she raises her voice and her nails dig into my skin. I take her hands in mine, wincing, "It's about that slut, isn't it?" Her eyes are as wide as source pans now, all the blue replaced with black, "Fire her!"

"Susan, enough!" I push her back again, and this time she stays back. She breathes heavily, and in her eyes I can see Tris. Because she has given me that look before. I recognize it instantly, "I have responsibilities, I am a father. Tris has nothing to do with this."

"Of course she does! Everything started to change when you hired her! You said you loved me-"

"I lied," it's easy for me to say because I know this is over now. It was over before it began. I needed comfort. I used her. Obviously, I can't say that to her. She has feelings, no matter how much of a clingy person she is, "I'm sorry, okay? I'm tired of choosing you over my daughter."

"We can have a baby if that's what you want-"

"No, Susan," I stay silent, listening to the rain and the thunder in the distance, "You need to leave me alone."

 **Review :) I hope this gives you a little bit of light towards their "relationship".**


	18. The Hair

Violet falls down on the couch next to me, turning on the TV. I shift away slightly to give her space. You never know when she will lash out.

Eric has been gone for an hour. And I decide not to care. It's easy not to care when he's not around. I can concentrate on Violet. And I really should. As Eric said, I have to do my job. Nothing else should matter. I push away my childish crush.

I grab a slice of pizza from the box on the table and lean back against the soft couch, taking my legs with me.

"Have you ever seen American Horror Story?" Violet asks. I look up to see Netflix loading up on the screen. And then lots of different boxes come up, enlightening me with so many varieties of films and TV shows. I've always wanted Netflix, but paying every month for it was never affordable. Maybe now I can get it.

"Violet," I wipe some red sauce off my lip, "We're not watching that."

"How about Purge: Anarchy?"

"No horrors, please," the screen flickers, indicating her flipping through the titles like a magazine.

"You're boring," she scoffs, selecting Paranormal Activity. I protest, but she sits on the remote, "Pussy."

"One more word, and I will call your father," I sit up, avoiding looking at the screen when an eerie silence falls upon the movie. Then a sex scene comes up. Twenty minutes in, Violet does not flinch at anything. She slowly chews her pizza, legs folded underneath her. Meanwhile, I chew on my nails, trying to clear my throat to hide every bad word that comes up.

We watch it for 45 minutes, and then I turn the TV off by pressing a sensor button on the screen, "What the hell?!"

"Can't we do something else?" I stand with my hands on my hips. The thunder rumbles outside and I flinch. Violet rolls her eyes.

"Like what?"

"Bake a cake? Braid each other's hair? Play doctor?"

Violet raises her eyebrow, giving me a look of derision, "What's wrong with you?" Her reaction was exactly what I was expecting. With a huff, I look out into the distance, trying to think of something a half-child half-adult might like to do. The rain drums against the window, setting a really unsettling mood in the living room. It's so dark.

She speaks before I have to, "Can I cut your hair?"

"Absolutely not."

"You're the one who wanted to play hair dresser!"

"The game does not involve cutting."

She bites her lip, brushing her loose strands of hair out of her face, "What if we didn't play hair dresser?"

"I would be happy-"

"No!" she cuts me off, saying her next sentence slowly, "What if we didn't _play_ hairdresser?"

I search her smiling eyes, and it takes me way too long to read her expression. She starts smiling, something I have rarely seen. I don't reply for a moment, taking it all in. And then her smile drops. So I decide to answer.

"You want to go to the hairdresser?"

"No, but you do," she smirks again, hiding it quickly.

"Do I?"

"Yes!" her eyes widen with slight aggravation, "You look like a nine year old." I smile, raising my eyebrows. She rolls her eyes again, "It's not a good thing!"

"Alright! But come on, I'm not cutting my hair," I go and take a seat next to her. She scoots away an inch or two.

"Then don't be surprised you're single."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Self-consciously, I brush my hair behind my shoulders, hiding it from her view. Violet watches me, picking at a thread on her baggy shirt.

"You need a make-over. That's all I'm saying. Long hair, baggy shirt," she points to me, and that's when I remember that I am wearing Eric's black shirt. The one I found in a laundry basket, "You have no style."

"You're wearing exactly the same thing-"

"Which is bad! You're supposed to have your own style."

"So... what?" I ask, tilting my head to the side, "You're saying I should cut my hair?"

Thinking about it, she is kind of right. With a simple parting in the middle of my head, I don't attract that much attention to myself. It's nothing unique. Plus, Violet has the same hair. Maybe I really should change it.

"It's raining outside..."

Violet smiles again, a mystery dimple showing up on her cheek, "You have your car."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

She urges me to take an umbrella before we take off. There is a snazzy little hair salon three blocks down from Eric's flat. It's hidden from view. Not very eye-catching exterior. But once you go in, it's as comfortable as a fireplace on a winter's night. There are two other clients here, both having their hair shampooed. I fold my arms timidly, looking around for a person in charge.

"Excuse me!" Violet yells, making one hair dresser drop her scissors. I close my eyes, pretending that didn't just happen.

"Hello," the woman with black short hair walks over to us, leaning down slightly, as if she is a scared dog, "Do you have an appointment?" Her tight black skirt hugs her curves, almost trying to hide them. She looks middle-aged.

"No," I shake my head, "We came to make one-"

"The haircut needs to be done today," Violet growls, cutting me off, "You don't look busy, you do it."

"Violet," I place a hand on her shoulder, feeling her sigh.

The woman watches us awkwardly before leading me to a seat. Violet skips off in another direction, almost begging me to follow her. I don't. I just whirl around, seeing her pick up a magazine, attracting the attention of a couple of women. They start cooing, asking her what she wants to be called. She flips them off.

"Now, what are we doing today?" the woman with black hair asks behind me, covering me with a dark blue sheet. I take my eyes off Violet when she reaches my side, pointing to an image in the magazine.

"She wants this one."

I lean over to see. The woman on the image owns a long bob, hair curled gently to form waves. It won't be much of a difference, except my length will be reduced significantly.

"Is that what we're doing then?" It annoys me how she refers to her job as 'we'. I have no say in anything whatsoever. Especially how I want my hair cut.

I nod, taking a deep breath. God, Violet better be right about this one.

SHSHSHSHSH

The hairdresser holds a mirror behind my head, allowing me to see the back of my hair in the reflection. I run a hand through my hair, shocked when the flow stops at my shoulders. My hair has never been this short before. For as long as I can remember, it was always cut off at my waist.

It seems shinier now, even though she used no product on it. Slight waves have been added, and the frizz is gone. I hear the rain outside and stop breathing. Oh, right. We brought an umbrella.

"That's an improvement," Violet's head appears in the mirror behind my shoulder. I smile at her, watching as she pulls on a strand of my hair.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

I pay at the register and open the umbrella in the doorway. Together, Violet and I speed walk to my car, hiding from the rain that is now causing huge puddles. We leap over them, but I manage to get one of my shoes wet.

When we get back to the apartment, it's still empty. And I give up hope that Eric went to see Susan for work related purposes.

 **Review :)**


	19. The Storm

I cook dinner and Violet eats without complaint. The most she does is scowl. But that's what happens all the time anyway...

After washing up our dishes, we go back to the living room, and then she gets a crazy idea: "Can you call my daddy?"

Scratching some dried in stain on my jeans, I answer, "You want to find out where he is?"

"Oh, I know where he is," she crosses her legs, chin jutting out as she leans back on the couch, "I want to know when he'll be back."

"I'm sure it will be soon," I say that because I don't want to call him. Not really. I imagine him picking up the phone, his pants heavy against my ear. And then that whiny voice in the background asking who is calling him.

I shut my eyes to fend away that scene. I hope to never experience that. Ever.

Before Violet presses further, I change the subject, "You know what I used to do at your age? Play the rolling game."

Violet raises her eyebrows, lips reddened after chewing on them so hard.

"Two people sit opposite each other and roll a ball back and forth. Each time the ball is in your hands, you say a word, and then I have to say a word associating with yours," I smile at the memory of me and Caleb playing together. It's a shame that we drifted apart as siblings. I still miss him, "I used to play with my brother."

Violet sighs sadly, which sounds almost like a sigh you would give to someone telling a somber story... or maybe someone homeless, picking up plastic bottles.

"If that is what it's like to have a sibling, I'm surprised you didn't hang yourself,"

"Hey," I keep my voice calm. What did I expect? Her definition of fun is TV and misfortune of others. We have had extremely different upbringings, "I'm just saying... it's a good game."

She looks at me then, eyes somewhere far away. In oblivion, "I wanted a brother."

I bite my tongue before answering. This could go wrong. She could be thinking about her mom and how she didn't live long enough to make another baby. I take a moment to think about what to say, "You can always have a brother."

"How?"

Again. I take a moment. And shrug, "You know..." I shrug again.

Violet rolls her eyes, placing both hands on her stomach, "Whatever."

SHSHSHSHSH

The front door slams, making my heart jump to my throat. He's back. Violet scrambles off the couch, fleeing the living room, not looking back. In the hallway I hear her exclaim 'daddy!' and then Eric's grunt. He laughs. And I imagine him picking her up into his arms. There is a rustling. Paper bags. Unmistakable.

The anger inside me has sizzled away, but it shouldn't mean that I will treat him like nothing happened.

His head pokes around the doorway, he smiles at me. Violet is on the floor now, taking one brown bag off of him. So he has been to a store? Immediately, my heart dissolves into warmth. I smile back.

"I brought you girls cupcakes," he says, stepping into the room. His hair is slightly ruffled and wet. His black jacket glistens with rain. Apart from that, he looks normal. No sign of Susan on him.

"Cupcakes?"

He smiles wider, walking over to me. I hear Violet screaming in the kitchen, happy about the triple chocolate cookies Eric has purchased.

"You don't like cupcakes?"

I stand up, rolling my eyes playfully. That's when he reaches out, his smile faltering, "When did you...?"

"Oh," I grin, scratching the back of my head, "Violet wanted to do something fun. So we went to cut my hair."

His hand hovers near my cheek, and then he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. I look down, trying not to make my smile spread.

"I like it," he says, voice hoarse. He clears his throat, "I really like it."

"Well, don't get weird about it."

Eric chuckles, stepping back slightly. His eyes stay on mine, cold as ice. His only warmth radiates from his smile.

"I owe you an apology," he says quietly, folding his hands uncomfortably.

"You already apologized."

"But that's not enough."

"No," I confirm, looking away for a split second. When I look back, his expression is cold.

"Tell me what will be enough," lightning flashes across his face, startling me. The corner of his lips twitches.

"Not cupcakes," I laugh, swaying past him. He makes no attempt to stop me. Good.

I decide to go to the bathroom. Because I haven't been there in a long time. Part of me wants to pee. Another part wants a minute alone. Away from Eric. Away from Violet. So I stand in the middle of the bathroom, twisting and twirling to see different angles of my hair in the mirror. It's so different. And Eric likes it. I grin, wiping invisible dirt off my cheeks. I look like a ghost. With my new pay rise I should be able to afford good make-up. I have no excuse now.

After a couple of minutes alone, I walk out, only to bump into his broad chest.

"Sorry!" Was he just standing here this whole time?

He grabs my shoulder with one hand, keeping me in place. It's quite dark and nobody has made an attempt to brighten the place up. I guess none of us are used to this kind of weather. I look up at his shadow of a face. His grey eyes stand out like two headlights in a snow storm.

"I ended things with her," he whispers, placing his other hand on my arm, "It felt like a break-up... even though we weren't together in the first place. But I ended it. Whatever it was," I lean back to observe his face. I can tell that this is an unrehearsed speech.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Isn't it obvious?" when I feel his breath near my cheek, I take a step back. And then again. Until I have walked through into the spare bedroom where there is more light, thanks to the windows. I fold my arms as he follows me cautiously.

He stops in the doorway, hands sliding into pockets. A clap of thunder cracks behind me.

"What do you want from me?" his voice is impatient.

What do _I_ want from _him_? He's the one I can't get out of my head!

"I know she bothered you. And now she's gone. From my life as well as yours... why aren't you happy?"

My hand reaches my forehead and I sigh, "You have lied to me before. You made it seem like Susan was more important than... staying home with your sick daughter-"

"Is that why you're acting like this?"

"Like what?"

Eric sighs and runs a hand through his hair, figuring out the puzzle in his head. I don't understand him at all. Is he really surprised that I am not jumping at the opportunity of being with him now that he's "single"?

"I'm... I'm here to do my job," I say quietly before walking past him. He doesn't move. Just keeps staring into the distance.

SHSHSHSHSH

The storm is on the news. It's blown over a couple of trees and left a massive trail of cars on the motorway. Nobody can drive in these conditions. Everybody is waiting for the rain to subside.

"Bad day for you," Violet smirks, clearing all the yogurt from her spoon. I roll my eyes, shrugging on my jacket.

"I live like ten minutes away," at that, she shrugs and makes her way back into the living room, leaving me to put my shoes on alone in the hallway. That is until Eric comes. Looking like he has been hibernating for months.

"Stay,"

"No, I have to get back. Really."

"Then let me drive you," he grabs his jacket along with his car keys.

"My car is outside," I smile, "I can't leave it here. How will I come on Monday?"

"Let me drive you,"

"You can't leave Violet here alone," I zip up my jacket, smiling when he nods.

"Just drive safely,"

"I will," his eyes scan my body, as if I am wounded. I don't need to ask him what he's thinking about because I can see it in his eyes, "I'll be fine."

I place my hand on his chest, and finally there is a hint of a smile. He places his hand over mine, squeezing it tightly. I squeeze back.

"Call me when you get there."

"I will."

 **Review :)**


	20. The Invitation

Sunday flew by, and on Monday I am called back in to work.

The storm has cleared, but the grey clouds are still lingering in the sky. And even though it is pretty morbid outside, humidity challenges it.

I wear a knee-length skirt with a button-down blouse. Christina wolf-whistles as she gets up in her thin nightie, "Who are you getting all dressed up for?"

I smirk, shaking my head, "Nobody."

She chews on her lip, obviously thinking about something. I wait for her to say it, but she doesn't.

"What?"

"Nothing," she smirks, going to pour herself a cup of coffee, "Just be careful with that heart of yours."

"Well, I'm not some middle-aged man with a condition,"

"You know what I mean," I look down at myself, smoothing down my black skirt, "I'm not entirely sure he made that Susan fuck off forever."

"Maybe not, but he's not going back to her," I cringe at how bossy I sound. Like a spoiled, rich wife who has been cheated on many times. All I'm missing is a knife and a criminal record. Well, maybe not the criminal record.

There seems to be some sort of flood across the city from all the rain. I step into a puddle, shrieking at the cold water. It takes me about ten minutes to figure out a way to swerve the puddles around Eric's flat.

I arrive there and he buzzes me in, and when I get up to his floor, he is standing... outside his apartment, arms folded.

"What's... going on?"

Eric smiles slightly, nodding his head toward the door, "Violet locked me out."

Of course she did. I can't help but smile.

"How did you buzz me in?"

"I didn't," he says, eyes running up and down my body. I look away, face flushing, "I have a spare key in my pocket."

I pause, raising my eyebrow at him, "Why didn't you just go in then?"

"I was waiting for you," he is dressed in his suit. His black suit. I am guessing it is a meeting sort of day.

Once I run my hand over my head and through my hair, reality kicks in. It's like I have just woken up. Why is Eric standing out here? As if he heard me, he shoves his hand into his pocket, pulling out a spare key.

"We had a disagreement,"

"About?"

"Susan," I stop breathing. He unlocks the door, "She said if I see her again, 'my ass is out on the streets'," he adds air quotes. I try not to get angry. But then again, he doesn't let me, "I mean... I work with her. Of course I'll see her again."

His eyes meet mine and I nod. Then he places his hand on my lower back, opening the door.

SHSHSHSHSH

"I hope you are here to pack your things," is the first thing I hear when we walk in. Violet is standing under the arch in the hallway, hands on her hips. Isn't it a bit early for her to be awake?

"Violet, drop it," Eric grumbles, brushing past me into the main hall. I watch him, slightly scared that Violet will lash out any second. And because I know her very well, that is exactly what she decides to do.

"Ugh, you are worse than she is!" I press my lips together, blending into the wallpaper in the background. She doesn't seem to notice me. Good. At least I won't get yelled at. I'm just here to do my job.

"Calm down," Eric says calmly, walking over to her. Before he can put a hand on her shoulder, she jerks away.

"The fuck I will!"

"Violet," I make a decision to make myself present. She turns and raises her eyebrows at me, all our good moments clearly forgotten, "Stop swearing, and go and get ready-"

"Bite me, Emma Stone," she pushes past me, storming toward her room. Then I hear the door slam. Emma Stone?

I look at Eric who is trying to suppress a smirk, but failing, "Good try," he puts his hand on my shoulder, thumb pressing against collarbone. I swallow nervously, becoming a statue, "You know how she is."

"How do I take her to school? She's not going to come out of her room, is she?"

Eric shakes his head. And then sighs, "I'll take care of it." He grabs my hair, slowly running his fingers through it. I shudder as my scalp tingles. He seems to notice because he leans in closer. Almost to the point of me feeling his breath on my lips. I want him to say something. Anything. But he keeps quiet. Until it gets slightly awkward.

I smile and turn my head, feeling him place a soft kiss on my cheek.

SHSHSHSHSH

Like he promised, he took care of it. Violet came out of her room, fully dressed and ready for breakfast. I mean, he must have said some pretty intense shit to convince her to not be her normal self. At least for the morning.

I kept smiling, feeling the burn of his kiss on my cheek. Inappropriate. Unprofessional. But worth it.

Violet shot me a glare at one point, but I simply smiled. I smiled until my cheeks hurt. And then I smiled some more.

After taking her to school, I came back to the apartment. And I sit here now. Thinking. Wondering. What did that kiss mean? Why did he even do it?

Oh, my God. I am probably over reacting. It was probably a goodbye kiss. Like something he would share with his work colleagues.

I frown. Susan pops into my head.

No, it's over. She is out of his life for good.

The shrill ringing makes me jump out of my seat. I scramble around the room until I find a vibrating telephone. I press the green button, putting it to my ear, "Hello?"

"Tris," his voice purrs on the other line. I find my smile again, taking a seat on the living room sofa. I listen to his breathing for a long moment before replying.

"How are you?"

"Very well. And yourself?"

I laugh softly at his formality, "You know... just because you are wearing a suit, doesn't mean you have to be so ceremonious."

"What are you talking about? This is how I always am."

I laugh again, biting my lip. Somehow, my legs have ended up on the back of the sofa, propped up against the wall, "What did you want?"

"I wanted to ask you how you are."

"Well, you got your answer..."

He sighs deeply, "The truth is... it's really boring here without you."

I close my eyes and imagine him beside me, whispering into my ear what he is whispering miles away right now.

"Find a way to entertain yourself."

"Come over," he orders, something creaking in the background. Probably his office chair.

"I'm... I would be in the way..."

"No, you can never be in the way," I hear his grin, which makes me smile wider.

 **Apologies for the short chapter. I have so much on my hands with university.**

 **Please review :)**


	21. The Second Move

Entering the Lexi Plaza is no problem at all. And neither is finding his office. I have been here before, so I know exactly where I'm going. Gives me great satisfaction to see that snobby receptionist giving me a questioning look as I pass her. She knows whom I am here to see.

I go up to his floor after finding a very clean bathroom. I am alone. Quickly I check my hair, my make-up, my skirt. It's like a reflex. Everything looks good. Well, good for me anyway.

I knock on his wooden door timidly, heart rising up to my throat. There is no way to swallow it. I am obviously super nervous. But why?

I hear his voice on the other side of the door... and then his footsteps. Getting closer and closer to where I am standing. I adjust my skirt for the thousandth time. And then the door opens.

His eyes cloud over when he sees me, as if he was not actually expecting me to show up. He clenches the phone harder, scratching the bottom of his jaw, "I have to go," he says to the person on the other line.

I give him a small smile, and he gives it back, letting me in.

His cologne smells fresh and inviting. I breathe it in as I walk past him. Then I feel his hand on my back, warm and assuring.

"We'll sort it out later. I have a visitor. Bye," he hangs up, shutting the door behind us. I smile widely, wrapping my arms around myself. His eyes meet mine and he tosses his phone away. It's clearly not important anymore.

I hear traffic and the honking of cars. When I look to the right, the enormous window displays a parting in the clouds. The sun is coming out. People are back on the roads again.

"You came," he whispers, stepping closer. I place a hand on his chest, fingers wrapping around his tie.

"You're lucky I was bored too." He seems to take pleasure in this, because he sighs with longing. And it isn't long before his hands are on my hips and his nose is on my forehead, breathing deeply. I laugh nervously, using both hands to keep him at a distance, "Eric, we talked about this."

"I don't remember talking,"

"I do," his eyes are soft when I pull away. Jesus, that's a sight I might never see again.

His hands run up my back, gripping fistfuls of my blouse somewhere near my shoulder blades, "You're driving me crazy."

I feel his facial hair scratch at my eyebrow, hot breaths shooting down my face. All I smell is his cologne and the toothpaste he used in the morning, "And I should be."

He quirks his eyebrow.

"I know nothing about you," I clear my throat, stepping away quickly. Eric clenches his jaw, allowing me to get the distance, "At least take me out on a date first."

With my hands I find the edge of his desk, then I lean back against it until I'm in a position where I can take a seat. Eric smirks widely, eyes lingering on my skirt more than my eyes, "Where would you want to go?"

I laugh, feeling my face heat up, "I was joking."

"Sounded pretty sincere to me," he murmurs, walking up to me until (yet again) we are touching. It's my fault really. I cornered myself, "Tell me what you prefer," he grabs me under my knees, nuzzling himself between my legs. And all I can thing about is how thin my skirt is. It will ride up. I will show skin.

Shit. Being sultry really doesn't suit me.

"A fancy dinner?" he asks, face totally serious, "An evening at the movies?" I laugh nervously, placing my hands on his shoulders, because where else? "Tell me where you want to go."

"I... I just want to get to know you," all the blood flushes down to my core when he bites my ear lobe. I feel him pressing himself against me, positive that I can feel his hardness through the fabric of my underwear.

"I want to get to know you too," his voice is almost a whisper. I shiver as his fingers dance up my thighs, under my skirt. I wince quietly, grabbing his hands in mine. He looks at me, no regret in his eyes.

"Eric," I say, watching him bring one of my hands to his lips, "Don't."

"You are saying 'don't', but you are not _saying_ it," the corners of his eyes crinkle and I laugh.

"What?"

He grins, helping me down from the desk. I try not to blush as I smooth down my skirt, "Let me take you out."

"Okay."

Eric looks taken aback for a moment. Then he composes himself, like the stern business man he is.

 **Short chapter, but full of sexiness ;)**

 **Review.**


	22. The Date Part 1

**Sorry for the long wait. Work :)**

On Friday he slips a note into my jeans pocket, leaning over to whisper into my ear, "Tonight at nine."

"Eric!" I slap his arm, whipping around to give him a look. Violet is only a door away, and the last thing she wants to witness is her father getting close and personal with her nanny. I smile though, taking a step back.

"What about Violet?"

"She's having a sleep over with a friend," I furrow my eyebrows, a blush coming to my cheeks when he says 'sleep over'. Sleep over. That means she won't be spending the night in this apartment. That means somebody else will be.

Eric smiles softly, nodding down at my pocket, "Reservation."

"Oh," I gasp, tapping the pocket with my hand awkwardly. He continues staring. So I take it out. It's a small card with the name of the restaurant at the top and our names handwritten across the bottom. The time is 7pm. And the restaurant is some posh shit. I've heard about it on the news. It had really good reviews months ago. God, I already feel like I don't belong there, "It's at seven."

When I look up, Eric is nodding, eyes lingering on my hips. He might as well be mentally undressing me, "So?"

"You usually work till-"

"I got it covered," he says, winking.

"Are you sure?"

He nods.

"Oh, okay," I exhale sharply, causing his eyebrows to raise. Then I try to hide my nerves with a shrug. But that just makes things worse. Eric shakes his head, eyes laughing.

"We're getting to know each other,"

"Yeah, absolutely," I nod till my neck cracks.

"But if you want something more-"

"Talking is fine. I like talking. I want to know more about you-"

"Okay," he whispers, playfully putting his hand to my mouth. I mumble before he silences me completely with an arm squeeze. God, he is so strong. How does he still want to go on a date with me? I need to chill the fuck out. Right now.

SHSHSHSHSH

"You are _not_ wearing that!"

"It's a nice dress!"

"It's nice, but not nice nice!"

"What-... ugh, whatever."

This has been going on for the past hour. I should have known that there would be consequences in asking Christina to help me dress for this evening... but what can I say? I dug myself a hole.

"You cannot possibly think that this dress will get you laid," Christina argues, holding up the prettiest dress I have. It's grey. Sure, it covers my arms and legs and... neck... but it's still a nice dress.

"I don't wanna get laid!" I spit out the word like it's poison. Christina gives me a knowing smile.

"That's bullshit, and you know it."

"No, it's not!" I yell, "It's not!" I repeat quieter after her shoulders jump, "Just... help me find something appropriate to wear at the restaurant."

"You're trying to impress a restaurant?" Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she pulls out a handful of fabric from her closet.

"Just," I hold up my hand, closing my eyes, "Help me decide. Please."

Something soft hits my chest and automatically I wrap my arms around it. When I open my eyes I see a red ball... It's obviously a dress... but I doubt it for only a second, because the silk material is so light, it starts slipping through my fingers.

"Where did you get this?"

Christina smirks, folding her arms. She's still wearing an apron, not bothering to change because her second shift starts in half an hour, "It's a dress."

"Yeah... I know," she is trying to be clever. It's partly my fault, I've been so jittery.

"Try it on."

It takes me a couple of minutes to slip it on, and in a split second I fall in love with it. Looking into the tall mirror on my wardrobe, I see someone who has been out on many dates, to many restaurants... all the while looking modest. It's only sultry at the arms. Two thin red straps hold it up at my shoulders, allowing the material to hug the curves I didn't know I had, ending at my knees. It's simply red. Not my color. But I like it. My collarbone can be seen, with just a little cleavage. I can live with that.

Christina squeals, dropping to her knees, her butt in the air, "Now you just need those black heels!"

I look back at my reflection, holding up my hair to see how it would look like in a bun. Little pieces fall over my face, but it's all part of the look.

"Here," she grins, tossing the heels to my feet. I could stand in them. They're not that big.

"Thanks," I smirk, "See? This is what I wanted. Why couldn't you recommend this dress an hour ago?"

"I forgot I had it," she leans against the wall, chewing on her finger nail, "Am I still allowed to do your make up?"

"As long as you don't over-do it."

SHSHSHSHSH

Christina leaves ten minutes before Eric rings the doorbell. I answer as quickly as I can, my heart in my throat. Why the hell am I so nervous? This could easily be two friends catching up. But deep down, I know it's more than that.

His eyes run down my body, so I try to hide it by holding my jacket in front of me.

"You look beautiful," he says, handing me the biggest bouquet of blue flowers I have ever seen.

"Oh my God, you didn't have to-"

"I think I did," he shoves it into my hands and I have to walk back in to find a vase for them. Meanwhile, Eric hovers behind me, his breath on every inch of skin I have revealed.

"Thank you... for the flowers," I smile, knowing the pink lip gloss makes my mouth look bigger. He gives me a curt nod, taking me by the elbow.

"Are you ready?"

I nod, smirking down at his blue tie, as I am unable to look at his face without blushing. He wraps an arm around my waist, and I smell the freshness of his black suit. As weird as it sounds, it actually smells new.

"Is... is Violet all settled then?" I put my jacket on as we rush out of the apartment. I lock the door and shove the key inside the pocket of my jacket.

"Yeah, she'll fit right in with those girls."

For some reason, I can imagine her frowning in a circle of perfectly groomed girls, wearing a shirt that says 'Fuck you All'.

"Are you sure?"

Eric sighs, lacing our arms together, "If anything happens, I'll pick her up," Then he leans in and kisses the top of my head. I look away because my face is probably a tomato right now. He lingers there, inhaling the fruit shampoo I used earlier. Christina warned me that the shampoo has some crazy effects on guys, but I thought she was joking.

I smile, desperately looking for words as if they will appear on the walls we are passing, "So... how far away is this place?"

"Not far," his answers have always been short, but now that we are officially on a date and I am sweating from places I never knew could sweat, they sound even shorter. I don't think he notices. He's as confident as ever.

We get into his expensive car (he even holds the door open for me) and drive. It feels like hours, but in reality, the restaurant is five minutes away. Maybe we are so bad at talking to each other that nothing will ever happen. Something punches me in the gut. Disappointment.

He starts speaking when we get out of the car at the parking lot, "Here we are."

I look around: the sun has already set and it's pitch black except for the lights surrounding the restaurant. It looks timid from here. Just a couple of windows glowing with yellow lights from the inside. I also see people at their tables. Mostly couples. There is a lot of red. Red carpets, red curtains. It makes me even more nervous.

Eric squeezes the back of my neck before stroking my back through the jacket, "Don't tell me you don't like it."

"No, I like it. It's great. It's just that-"

He cuts me off with a shake of his head. He stands in front of me, taking both of my elbows, which only makes me step closer. He's smiling. So I smile too.

"Remember what you said," he murmurs, "Getting to know each other."

"Yeah, I know-"

"I'm not going to pounce on you. Even though it's so tempting."

I laugh softly, looking down at his feet again. He snakes his arm around my waist and slowly leads me inside.


	23. The Date Part 2

I feel him raising his arm behind me. He clicks his fingers. When I turn to look, a waiter is rushing over to us, with what looks like a bottle of wine.

Our table is reasonably sized and tucked away in a corner, away from everyone else. The dim lights above it create an even more romantic atmosphere, in addition to the red table cover. We also have a nice view of the street outside. It's mostly street lights. No people walking around at this time. Considering that it's Friday, everyone is probably at the clubs. This restaurant is miles away from them.

"Here," Eric says, pulling my chair out from under the table to let me sit. I smirk, leaning against it.

"Thank you."

In a flash, the waiter pours me a generous glass of wine and I notice how Eric waves him off, asking for water instead. I give him a questioning look and in reply I get a nod. Somehow I know what he is saying. He's the driver. Well, that and common sense helps me as well.

We get our menus and Eric leans back in his seat, flipping it open. His eyes never leave mine. I giggle.

"Here we are," I sing, tilting my head to the side.

"Here we are," he mimics, taking a gulp of his water. He swallows and then speaks, "I do hope you enjoy your wine."

"Trying to get me drunk?" I joke.

Eric smirks, narrowing his eyes, "I invested in the company."

I widen my eyes, looking down into the glass of red. Then I look back at him. And he's still smirking, "Wait, you own a wine company?"

"No, I co-own it," his eyes are enjoying my reaction and I wonder if he just likes to show off.

"Wait," I laugh, "Wine company? What? I thought you work with sport?"

"It's a hobby,"

"Okay," I take a deep breath, thinking about how rich this must make him. Where does he get the time to look after two companies? "You're..."

He leans forward, clearly amused, "I'm what?"

I shake my head, tightening my grip on the glass.

He smiles wider, "Try it."

I tilt the glass from side to side, watching the wine splash around in waves. Then I bring my lips to the rim, desperately trying not to wash off my lip gloss. The alcohol swims through my mouth and down my throat, warming me up.

When I look back at Eric, he is clenching his jaw. He probably wants feedback. I didn't realize this was a wine tasting date.

I shrug one shoulder, putting down my glass, "It's alright."

The corner of his mouth twitches upwards, "The other thing you need to know about me is that I'm a perfectionist."

I raise my eyebrows, trying to hide the fact that playing snobby gives me great pleasure, "Does that piss you off? That I'm not overwhelmed by the taste?"

He smiles, picking up his menu, "I'll just have to do something about it."

I have no idea what he means by that. And now it's his turn to feel pleasure in his cryptic remark.

The waiter comes back with a notepad, looking very intimidated. I press my lips together, picking up my menu, "Are you ready to order?"

"Yes," Eric says, and I raise my eyebrows. He gives me a wink and takes my menu off me, "We'll have the chef's special."

Is this how it's going to be? Him making my decisions for me? I didn't even have a chance to open the menu!

The waiter scurries away, his white towel tucked neatly between his arm and torso. I turn to Eric, crossing my legs under the table. He sips his water, eyes burning holes in my face.

"What's the chef's special?"

"You'll like it," he replies, placing his glass back on the table.

I turn my head to look out of the window, watching some autumn leaves fall down to the ground. It's very warm in here. Even if I'm in a silk dress with nothing else underneath. I tuck a stand of hair behind my ear, feeling my hairstyle start to loosen at the back. Soon, the messy bun will fall down. Which is fine. Eric won't mind, will he?

"Tell me about your family," his gruff voice orders. I look at him. His eyebrows are furrowed. His body comfortable in that chair. I wonder if I should tell him. I wonder if I will ruin his tranquil state.

"My family?"

He nods, blinking.

I sigh, shrugging my shoulders timidly, "Okay... um... I have a brother. But we don't talk anymore-"

"Why not?" he cuts me off, taking a sip of his water.

I smile politely, shrugging again, "We drifted apart, I guess."

He nods, soaking it all in.

"And your parents?"

Now, I'm feeling like I'm being interrogated. No big deal, just tell him. Lots of people have no parents, right?

"They... died. Years ago," I force the words out like they mean nothing. I even take a sip of my wine to appear more casual. And when I glance at Eric, he sighs and raises his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," but it feels like he did. He gives me a sympathetic smile.

"What about your parents?"

He replies quickly, clearly wanting to change subject, "I don't see them."

I don't ask why. Mainly because I don't want to know. His parents are alive. And he chooses not to see them.

I get chills over my arms and goosebumps start to show up. Before I know what hit me, Eric is out of his seat, wrapping his expensive black jacket around my shoulders. I feign a laugh, looking up at him, "What are you doing?"

"It's chilly," he says, hand rubbing my shoulder for a brief second. He takes his seat. His white shirt is so thin that I can see the black ink running over his shoulders and chest. Something about it is captivating. I mentally kick myself for not staring at it long enough when he was only in his towel the first time I came to his apartment.

 **Sorry for the long wait. And the short chapter. University is hard.**

 **Review and tell me what you think :)**


	24. The Date Part 3

"Tell me something about you I don't yet know,"

I think the wine has gone to my head. I've only had one full glass, but apparently that was enough to make me brazen.

My lip gloss has disappeared once we started eating the incredible chef's choice dish. It smells incredible and looks incredible and tastes incredible. I don't know what it is, but there is this spaghetti in it. And vegetables. Maybe a hint of beef. I can't be sure. I just eat.

Eric looks at me with his sober eyes, half done with his meal. He swallows what is in his mouth before replying, "I'm sentimental."

"Really?" I laugh, bringing a tissue to my mouth. Eric grins, sticking his fork in something green.

"It's true."

I take another sip of my wine, crossing my legs underneath the table. When my knee hits his, our eyes lock. That's when I stop breathing.

"What about you?" he asks, smirking.

"What about me?" his leg taps mine as if trying to make me spill a secret. Then he sits up and his leg is gone. I even search for it with my knee, but it's gone. Probably tucked underneath his chair.

"I'm aware that you're an open book," he downs his water, giving a signal to the waiter, "But there has to be something I don't know," the waiter fills up my glass with wine and Eric's with water, "Think about it."

I grin, taking the challenge like a five year old. What doesn't he know? I roll my eyes, looking for the answer in the air. He knows about my parents. He has put together the puzzle of me and Four. He knows who I live with. He knows how I live. But what doesn't he know? After two long minutes of silence, I decide to pick a memory from long ago.

"How about this?"

Eric gives me a smile, leaning in closer. His leg returns. I hesitate.

"When I was eighteen, I lost my virginity," my face heats up at the bluntness but Eric doesn't look even a little interested.

"I could have guessed that-"

"Well, it's better than 'I'm sentimental'," I put on my best deep voice and Eric laughs. He raises his glass of water to his lips, taking a gulp. "How old are you?" It hits me like a truck that I am not aware of his age. He could be like forty. Not that forty is old...

Eric leaves a pregnant pause, eyes trailing down my neck, "Age is just a number."

"I knew you were gonna say that,"

He laughs again but I shake my head, "Just tell me."

"I'm old enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"So you lost your virginity..."

I roll my eyes at him. He takes my hand from across the table and starts counting my fingers. His thumb trails up and down my index finger with such admiration, it's laughable.

"Don't try and change the subject," I warn, wrapping my fingers around his hand. He kisses it softly, giving me goosebumps. I lower my eyes, looking down at my plate. When he gives my hand a squeeze, I look back up.

"Twenty eight,"

His eyes are soft, which means he probably isn't lying. I grin, nodding, "Okay... well, that's... good..."

Eric's eyes start to glisten with mischief, so I pull my hand away and rest it on my lap, "Why's that good?"

"Because..." I search for the answer, only finding: 'That means I can fuck you and not feel like one of those young lovers old men usually get'. Obviously, I don't say it out loud. But I think he can read me better than I can read myself. He's right. I'm an open book. Damn it.

"Because?" Oh, okay, so he's not going to drop it.

"So... so you had Violet pretty young then?"

Eric leans back, grabbing his glass of water. He's still smiling, probably giving me silent credit for changing the subject so easily.

"Yeah, I did," he sips, looking back at me, "We tried for her though. It's not like she was an accident."

I nod slowly, clasping my hands together and resting my chin on top. He gets my sign and continues talking.

"We were young and stupid," he shrugs one shoulder, idly scratching the side of his jaw, "When her mother died, I realized I had to get it together. Get a job... Educate myself-"

"Did you go to college?"

"Yeah," he winks at me, "Can't say it was easy though."

Great. Now I feel dumb. I didn't go to college. After my parents died, I decided not to do anything with my life. And having a small flat and a shit car is how I am paying for it.

"No wonder you own companies,"

"Education is everything," I smile weakly before taking a gulp of my wine. He had a baby and lost his girlfriend and he went to college. I didn't do shit but feel sorry for myself.

Suddenly, the waiter comes around, his skinny face looking more intimidated than ever. He asks Eric about dessert menus to which he responds by nodding at me. I raise my eyebrows.

"Do you want dessert?"

"Oh, no thank you. I'm stuffed."

"Perhaps we'll take them home then," he looks up at the waiter, gesturing for the menus to be handed out. I take mine, the small laminated booklet bending in my grip. Eric also orders another bottle of wine. I think he is definitely trying to get me drunk. That, or he wants to try it at home.

My mind is fuzzy. I can't tell what he wants anymore.

In the end, we order about five different dessert dishes to go. I made a point that Violet would probably have wanted some. And Eric agreed.

He gives me a small smirk intertwining our fingers when we stand, "Do you feel like you know me better?"

"A little bit, yeah," he chuckles, leaving a pile of cash in the middle of our table. At the exit, we collect a cute rustic box and a packaged bottle of wine. I hold the box, the bottom of it warming up my hands. I can smell the chocolate through it.

We walk outside and Eric wraps his jacket around me, so I turn around and smile. One of his hands finds my shoulder and brings me closer to his chest. I grin, concentrating way too hard on holding the box.

"Thank you for the meal," I say, smiling as he unlocks his car. I hear the click behind me and nod to myself before getting into the passenger's seat, placing the box on my lap. Eric hovers around for a second before getting in as well, placing the bottle of wine in the back seat. It's silent here. No background music, no wind, no traffic. Just silence.

Eric inserts the keys into the ignition without starting the engine. I look over at him and see that he is staring at me.

"Where do you want to go?"

Uh-oh. This is it. Why the hell do I get to decide? I'm nervous as it is.

I look down at the warm box, "I really want to try dessert." Even though I intended on not hanging innuendo onto the sentence, it hangs. And Eric takes a deep breath.

"Then we'll try dessert," he whispers. I look up at him, pursing my lips together. He has lustful eyes. I don't think there is an option to go back.

 **Review and tell me what you think :)**


	25. The Date Part 4

**Guys, I need you to help me support Shailene Woodley and a few other journalists from being charged for protecting clean water. If you don't know about what has happened recently, click the link in my bio and sign the petition to save a woman from 45 years in jail. All for having a peaceful protest. LINK IS IN BIO.**

...

We stumble through the front door. Well, mostly I stumble. But I don't drop the box of desserts. So it's all good.

Somewhere between taking off Eric's jacket and shutting the front door, he wraps an arm around me, his face inches away from mine, "It's so quiet here," I say, looking down when we touch noses.

"That would be Violet," he replies, taking the box away from me. My bladder squeezes and I giggle. How awkward would it be if I pissed myself?

"I have to pee," I blurt out, placing a hand on my stomach. Eric smiles at me through the darkness, nodding in the direction of the bathroom.

"You know where the toilet is."

The bathroom mirror shows me a reflection of a completely different person. She has a messy long bob, plain lips and smudged eye make-up. I groan internally, rubbing away the black mascara under my eyes. I wonder how long I've looked like this for. Couldn't have been too long.

Once I am satisfied with how my make-up looks, I wash it all away. There's no point of keeping it on. Not really. I have nobody to impress. No really, nobody. Eric wouldn't notice if I had a watermelon on my head. The looks he has been giving me tonight made sweat pool between my legs. I definitely don't need make-up. Plus, it's starting to irritate my eyes anyway.

I fix my hair and pull up the thin red straps of the dress over my shoulders. This dress is too big for me. I haven't noticed until now.

When I step out of the bathroom, my heels make a point of bringing attention. I take them off and feel my feet sticking to the wooden floor, carrying the footwear with one hand. The only light in this apartment seems to be coming from the living room. So I follow it like a moth.

Eric is standing in the middle of the room, his top buttons undone and his tie loosened. In his hand he has a glass of wine and in the other one: a TV remote. Netflix and chill? I'm down for that.

I put my shoes down near the door and smirk to myself. He senses my presence and turns around, black ink visible through his white shirt. Both of his sleeves are rolled up, and the geometric tattoos are more prominent than ever.

"Hey," I slur, walking up to him slowly. Eric hands me his glass and grabs another one off the coffee table. I notice that that's where the box of desserts is.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he grins at me and I grin back. We sip our wine at the same time. The TV is on mute and some criminal documentary is playing in the background. I put the wine down on the coffee table before Eric closes the gap between us, his hand pressing against my lower back. I bury my face in his shoulder, feeling his heat all around me. God, it's everywhere. And when he breathes against my ear... Agh!

I wrap my arms around his torso, the side of my face against his warm rising chest, "Do you feel like you know me better?"

I giggle quietly, "Not really. Well, kind of."

"That'll do," he whispers, arm snaking around my neck. I don't feel his hand anywhere because he is still holding his glass of wine.

I close my eyes, feeling the rush of alcohol weakening my knees. How much did I have to drink?

"Are you supposed to be drinking?" I ask, pulling away.

Eric's smile falters, eyes locking on mine. I elaborate.

"Oh, it's okay... I'll just get a taxi."

I can't say he doesn't look disappointed. Because he does. But before he can make a show of his brand new facial expression, that smile returns. I feel his lips on my forehead, "As you wish..."

We sit down on the couch, and by sit down I mean collapse. It feels so good to lay back on these soft cushions. Especially with a warm body next to you. He wraps both arms around me, pulling me so close that I almost sit in his lap. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I place them on his chest, feeling the bulging pecks underneath.

"What are you thinking about?" Somehow I miss the part where he kisses me on the lips. I literally miss it. It was a second long. It was just a peck. I felt it. But it felt like a short dream. And it starts fading away. So I lean in, pressing my lips against his. It lasts longer this time. He releases a low growl when I pull away.

"I... I don't know," I giggle, his stubble rubbing against my cheek, "About dessert?"

"Which dessert?"

"The chocolate dessert?"

Eric smiles, hand running over my cheek where he holds it, guiding me towards his mouth again. I laugh quietly as he deepens the kiss- and that is the moment I really start to feel the alcohol in my bloodstream.

 _Shut the fuck up. Stop laughing._

I grab his tie when something wet skids over my bottom lip. Then I gasp, leaning in far more urgently than before. One of his hands caresses my hip, not quite gripping it.

Eric kisses me deeper, threatening to leave bruises on my lips. I try to kiss him as hard as he is kissing me, but we all know how weak I am. I end up laying on my back, with a panting Eric on top of me, lips never leaving my lips. Until I turn my head. Then he just kisses me where he can. On my cheek, behind my ear, down my neck.

I hold his head, tangling my fingers in his thick hair. His grey orbs look up at me, blinking slowly, "You drive me crazy, Tris."

"I do?"

"Yes, you do."

He kisses me again, slower this time.

"Let's eat that dessert you wanted," he whispers, nose thumping against mine. I laugh (again), running a hand down his prickly face. He watches me, kissing my hand as it passes his lips.


	26. The Jumper

**Thank you for the reviews and to those who signed the petition. Charges were dropped for one journalist, that's good news :)**

I am embarrassed to say that I fell asleep. No, I'm not joking. Yes, I'm being serious. That wine must have hit me harder than I thought.

The light in the room is dimmed, to which I am grateful. I open my eyes to discover a white ceiling above me. When I turn left, I see that the black curtains are drawn. Wait a second...

I sit up in a flash, receiving a painful twitch deep inside my head, "Fuck," it takes me a minute to squeeze away the pain. I open my eyes again, looking around slower this time.

Eric's bedroom.

My heart starts pounding in my chest as the memories flood back. I remember laughing... and eating dessert... but nothing else after that. Weird.

Over to my right, the bed is empty. And then I see a flash of red under my chin. My dress.

I slept with my dress on? Under the sheets? Oh, my God this is so inappropriate.

The smell of cooked bacon flushes into my nose, making me smirk. I wonder what time it is. Obviously, it's morning. Unfortunately. Ugh, I wish I hadn't drank so much.

I slip out of the satin sheets that hold a strong smell of cologne. On the edge of the bed I find a large black bath robe. Eric's. I can't resist. I put it on over my dress and tie it around my waist. It also smells of cologne, but it's musky.

A clatter comes from the kitchen- and by the sounds and the smells I gather that he is making breakfast. So I follow the stimuli, ignoring the dulling ache in my head. When I get to the kitchen, I see Eric with his phone to his ear, a grin on his face.

"I'll be there in an hour, baby," with his other hand he stirs the food in the frying pan, "No, I promise."

I smile and lean against the door frame, knowing exactly who he is talking to. Shortly, he hangs up and looks over at me, the sweatpants and shirt snug on his body.

"Good morning," he says, switching off the stove. His eyes linger on mine as he walks up to me, hands ready to touch. He pulls me closer by the robe, not hesitating before pressing his lips against mine.

I moan softly, wrapping my arms around his neck. It's like we fit together perfectly. Like two puzzle pieces. There is no space between us.

He tugs away a part of the robe over my neck, revealing flesh of my collarbone. Then he kisses it, nuzzling my neck. I chuckle softly, gripping his shoulders, "Eric, what happened?"

"We went on a date-"

"No, I know," I pull away, getting a short kiss on the lips, "I mean... why was I in your bed?"

Eric chuckles, pressing his forehead against mine as we sway to silent music, "Well... you ate your dessert and then passed out on the couch."

I raise my eyebrows.

"So I had to tuck you in... I wouldn't want to leave you on the couch now, would I?"

He kisses me again, sliding his hand down my back. I feel like my face is going to explode from the rush of blood.

"I hope you can agree that this is your fault,"

Eric laughs, raising his eyebrows, "My fault?!"

"You are the one who gave me the dodgy wine!" I step back, folding my arms over my chest.

"Are you saying that there is something wrong with my wine?" his eyebrows furrow, but the smile remains.

"We didn't..." I pause, glancing down, "We didn't...-"

"No, we didn't," he confirms. And a massive weight lifts off my chest. Don't get me wrong, I really want to get in his pants. But what would be the point if I can't remember it? "I hope you like bacon and eggs."

"I do," taking a seat at the table, the sun from the window points its laser right at my face. Which reminds me, "Do you have any pain killers?"

Eric is silent for a long moment. Then he chuckles, "Hangover?"

"You have no idea."

He places the plate of breakfast in front of me before going over to a small cupboard and taking out a box of Advil. I swallow the tablets before digging into the eggs. He joins me shortly after, his meal ten times larger than mine.

"Coffee?"

"Yes, please," I grin.

He kisses my temple and makes us both a cup of coffee. He then tells me about Violet and how she expects him to pick her up within an hour.

"She hates it," he says, "I don't think she's growing up to be a sociable person."

Well, what does he expect? Can't force a bunch of monkeys make friends with a tigress.

SHSHSHSHSH

"Thanks for the ride," I say, unbuckling my seat belt. Eric rests his arm on the steering wheel, grinning at me. He's also chewing gum. I don't know why, but I am sooo turned on.

"When will I see you again?"

"Err... Monday?" We both laugh until I shake my head, "Thank you again... for last night."

He shrugs, changing his gear to one, "No problem."

I reach over and kiss him, enjoying the way his hand finds its way under my jumper. He has let me borrow it. He wouldn't let me return home in this dress. Even though I am wearing it underneath.

"What about your jumper?"

"You can keep it," he whispers, letting his lips linger on mine. I laugh softly, closing my eyes and listening to the silence of the car salon... our breathing heavy from all the breathing we missed out on from a last minute make-out, "Tris..."

"What?"

"If Violet asks," he pauses, licking his lips, "Don't mention what happened last night."

"What do you mean?" I furrow my eyebrows, intertwining our fingers together. He squeezes my hand.

"You know how she is," his nose meets mine, "Let's just keep this to ourselves for a while."

I close my eyes and stay silent for a minute. He is right about Violet. She would freak out. It would be better to break it to her slowly. If there is anything to break. It could have been a one night stand without the sex. We'll see where this goes.

"Yeah, I understand," I say, receiving another kiss on the lips.

Christina meets me at the door, eyes wide with caffeine and dressed for work.

"Oh my God, you're back! Did you do it?" I push past her, smiling to myself. Did she spend all this time wondering? That's kinda creepy. The door slams behind me and I make my way to the bedroom, inhaling the smells on Eric's jumper, "Did you have sex?! Oh, my God is that his jumper? Was he dominant? Did he cum inside you?"

"Christina!" I gape at her, spinning around, "Nothing happened, okay?"

"Um... you were missing for the whole night. Where did you sleep?"

"At his apartment," before she can cut me off with all her knowledge, I press on, "But we just slept. I... I fell asleep and that's it."

"You fell asleep?" her shoulders relax slightly, and her eyes search the floor before flicking back to mine, "What, I'm confused. How could you fall asleep?"

"I had too much wine-"

"Was he mad?"

"No!" I smile, "We made out this morning, so he couldn't have been... right?" I raise my eyebrows, starting to doubt my confidence. It's like she is a social worker and I am seeking the answers of my relationships within her. I am right to. She knows more than me.

"Well, at least you made out. Tell me about that," she grins, fluffing her hair and sitting down on the bed with me, "Is that his jumper?"

"You already asked me that question," I roll my eyes, laughing.

"You didn't answer it."

 **Review :)**


	27. The Aftermath

When I get into work on Monday, Violet greets me first. For a second, I shit myself because I think that she _knows_. Her eyes glare and her chin is jutted forward. But then she does her careless eye roll and I sigh as I take off my jacket. She suspects nothing.

"Who should I dress up as for Halloween?"

"Um... Harley Quinn?"

"Are you retarded?"

I grin slightly, turning to face her after hanging up my jacket onto a coat hanger, "I don't know then... ask your dad."

My eyes scan over her head, desperate to bump into Eric's lean frame. I don't see him though. My heart starts beating faster. What will he do when he sees me? God, I can't believe we kissed like that.

"He'll tell me to be a witch. Four years in a row," Violet growls suddenly, making me jump, "I don't wanna be a shitty witch!"

"Okay!" I raise my hands along with my eyebrows, "We'll think of something."

"It better be good," she whips around and storms deep into the apartment, baggy PJ bottoms flowing behind. I run a hand through my hair before going after her. I stop in the middle of the hallway, trying to use my telepathy skills to detect where Eric is and what he is doing. My conclusion is that he is currently in the master bedroom, mostly because I hear a drawer sliding shut. Conveniently, he walks out after the noise, fixing up the cuff links on his suit. By now, I am a puddle on the floor.

Our eyes meet and he winks at me. I giggle like a sick love puppy, straightening my pale sweater.

"Hi," I manage, scanning around for Violet before coming up to him when I'm convinced she is nowhere near.

"Good morning," there is still a little sleep in his voice, which makes it even deeper. I smirk. And when he touches my face, I jolt away, "Relax..."

I look around again, clearly paranoid. Eric doesn't choose to bring it up though. He just reaches out for me again and presses his lips to mine. I gasp quietly, allowing him to press my body closer to his. He tastes like strong coffee and his mouth is hot. I moan quietly when one of his hands runs into my hair, and in about two seconds I pull away.

"No, stop, Eric..." he raises an eyebrow, jutting his chin upwards, just like Violet does, "She's in the next room."

He sighs before stepping away, a suspicious smile slithering across his face, "Then meet me at lunch."

"At lunch?"

"Yeah," he nods, "Remember when you came to see me?"

I blush slightly, nodding downwards.

"Come and see me today."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

All morning I have been skittish on their sofa. And when the clock displays that it's midday, I jump up and run to my car. Going to see Eric. Finally.

Taking Violet to school today was easy. All she complained about was her uncertain Halloween outfit, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. She ate and got dressed and even smiled at me when I dropped her off.

I am at the Lexi Plaza within five minutes. The workers have not had the chance to leave yet. Barely anybody is in the reception. I'm too early.

I go to the front desk and put on my best 'let me through' face. The receptionist fakes her smile. She knows who I am here to see. That bitch is jealous, I can tell.

When I get the all clear, I jog up the stairs, not bothering with the slow elevator. I regret it when I reach Eric's floor. I am out of breath and the back of my neck burns. So I have to take a quick break and lean against a wall, roughly unzipping my jacket. His office is right there. Twenty yards away.

I take a deep breath and practice my seductive walk all the way to his door, thanking God these heels have not made me trip yet.

This time I don't knock. I push the door open, happy to see his beautiful self sat in his big chair, chewing on a pen lid. When he sees me, he pulls it out of his mouth, dazzling teeth lighting my way, "Miss Prior."

"Mr Coulter," I greet, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it. His eyes scan down my body before he nods at the door.

"Lock it," he orders. I bite my lip before doing so, something churning in my stomach. Knowing my luck, it's probably food poisoning.

His fingers crook and do 'the motion'. I smirk, walking up towards his desk, "You wanted to see me."

"Yes," his voice is too loud for a second and I know what he is thinking: This conversation is starting to sound more and more like a kinky role play. I am almost convinced that he will keep the fake conversation going, but he just laughs. I smile widely, "How do you feel about sushi?"

I cringe, knowing that raw seafood does not mix well with me. Eric stands up slowly, hands on the desk, "What about pizza then?"

"I like pizza," I reply, shrugging off my jacket and laying it on the back of the chair opposite Eric's desk. I sense him walking around to my side slowly, and my core twitches. Really? Even his walk? I have got to learn how to control myself.

"Pizza it is," his body towers over mine and in a split second I find myself sandwiched between his body and his desk. It's suffocating in a good way. I look up at him, pleased to see a grin on his face. He wipes it off though, replacing it with a quizzical expression.

"What? What's the matter?" I chuckle, hand on his shoulder.

"Nothin'," his voice drops a few decibels.

I feel his muscular thighs pushing their way between my legs and have no choice but to lean back against the table. Something clatters, but his eyes stay on mine. Obviously not important. I get pushed back so much that by now my ass is comfortable on top of the wood, creasing some papers I haven't had the chance to brush away.

Eric nuzzles his torso between my legs (thankfully I chose to wear jeans today), and I notice how cold his face is starting to get. For him though, the line between cold and serious is blurred.

Nervously, I grab onto the back of his neck, feeling his pressed shirt against my fingertips. He leans in further, lips brushing past my lips.

"Do you have any idea," he speaks slowly, "how hard it is for me not to take you right here, on this desk," I shiver, making it bluntly obvious when he starts to kiss along my jawline.

"What's stopping you?"

I feel his whole body shudder as mine gets lifted up, legs wrapping around him. He kisses me, hard. And I kiss him back, trying to match his passion. In between it all he whispers something along he lines of, "At least let me take you on a second date."

"Patience? I thought that wasn't your thing," I cry out when a sharp pain breaks out at the base of my neck. He bit me! After catching my breath, I look into his eyes, waiting for an explanation. The corner of his lips twitches up.

"It isn't," he says, setting me down until my feet touch the ground. I don't let go of him though. I keep my hands busy around his chest and shoulders, grabbing fistfuls of everything I can lay my hands on.

Eric squeezes my hips, bringing me to look up at him, "Second date."

I smile, rolling my eyes, "This time, don't treat me to your wine."

 **Review and tell me what you think! What do you think will happen next? What do you want to happen next?**

 **Let me know :)**


	28. The Ordering

On teacher's training day, Violet doesn't go to school. Which means I have to look after her for a day. Which means I can't visit Eric for lunch. Or breakfast. Or at any time at all.

I mean, it's not that bad. I took her to this burger place for dinner, and now we are on the way home. Her home.

"I think I wanna be Wednesday Addams," Violet says, brushing some hair out of her face.

"Wednesday Addams? Oh, I can see that," I laugh.

She gives me a weird look.

"You don't want to dress up as a clown or anything?"

"A clown? I'll get clubbed to death," she rolls her eyes, looking out of the car window. I hit the brake at the traffic lights and wait patiently for the green bulb to come on. I happen to be the first in line, so if I mess up, the cars behind me will start honking and I really don't want that to happen again.

"Are you going to a party or something?" I ask, taking a sip of my lukewarm coffee. When the cup is dry, I stick it in the holder.

"We're going Trick or Treating," she says. I smirk, imagining Eric dressed up as Count Dracula.

"I didn't think your dad was the dressing up kind," the green light comes on, and I make the tires screech. Violet gets pushed back into her seat, choosing not to mention my driving skills.

"He isn't," she groans, "You're coming with me."

I glance over at her, raising my eyebrows, "Me? That's news."

"Not anymore," her shoulder shrugs as I pull up to their apartment complex. It takes me four minutes to park. Violet gasps loudly, "You should be a clown!"

"I thought you said clowns get clubbed,"

"Yeah," she juts out her chin, unbuckling her seat belt. I roll my eyes.

"Y'know," I sit back in my seat, capturing her attention. She raises her eyebrows at me, waiting for something to be said, "You could be Wednesday Addams... I could be Morticia Addams, and your dad could be Gomez Addams."

She furrows her eyebrows and her eyes display a great sorrow, making me feel shit. For a second I fear that I revealed something, but then she sighs.

"How will that even work? Who would be Pugsley?"

SHSHSHSHSH

I join Violet on the living room couch. Yet another episode of American Horror Story is playing on TV. This time I manage to get away with not peeking at the screen, even though the volume is pretty loud and all the screaming can be heard.

Violet has an Apple laptop on her lap. It's perfect for her- very petite and light. I'm sure it's not hers though.

"Whatcha got there?" she glances at me, her small fingers tapping the censor square.

"Shopping," she answers, face nonchalant.

My eyes cloud with confusion, "Do you have a savings account or something?"

"Pfft, no," she giggles, "It's daddy's card."

I widen my eyes, putting on my best concerned face. I'm not faking it. I really am concerned. Is this normal? "What? You can't do that-"

"Why not? He saves his bank details on eBay," she chews on her bottom lip. I lean forward and see the website on the screen, view point changing every time as she scrolls through a mass of blackness, "I'm sure he won't mind me buying a fucking costume."

"Language," I say, feeling a bit uneasy. I can't even lean back against the couch, "Violet, this is wrong."

"What? Why?!" her tone raises. I scooch to the side, afraid of her anger.

"Because! It's his credit card," I explain, "You could have at least asked!"

"I don't have to ask," her grey eyes widen and then she angrily types something into the search engine, "Here. Treat yourself."

"What are you doing?"

"Buying you tampons. Twelve packs of them-"

"Violet, stop that!" I jump up, hesitating before taking the laptop off of her. She folds her arms, confident. Probably tapped the one-click ordering option, "You have no right to spend his money like that... and oh, my God, did you really order tampons?"

I set the laptop down on the coffee table, heart hammering against my ribcage. Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. This is not going to look good on his order history.

"Relax," Violet sighs, taking up all the space on the couch, "I doubt he'll notice."

I click on _History_ and scroll down until I see it. There it is. In bold letters. **Your order of _Tampax Pearl Applicator Tampons- Pack of 40 (x12)_ will be delivered to you within 48 hours.**

"Violet, are you crazy?!" I search for the _cancel order_ button but it is nowhere to be seen. Just my luck, "I could get fired for this!"

In my head though, I know he will never fire me for something like this. All because of our daily make out sessions in his office. Still, ordering tampons from his account is quite embarrassing.

"Fired?" she scoffs, stretching out her legs, "I'll be dead before that happens. He's obsessed with you."

My lip is captured between my teeth as I turn to look at her, hand shutting the laptop, "Obsessed?"

"Yeah, whatever," it's clear that she doesn't want to talk about it, but for some reason she continues, "He's always talking about you. And when I call you an awkward wreck, he defends you."

She calls me an awkward wreck behind my back? He defends me? I try to hide my smile by turning away.

SHSHSHSHSH

Eric's deep voice purrs on the other line when I pick up my phone. I feel so turned on that I have to go into another room to talk to him, "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I answer, my smile ridiculously big.

"Listen," he starts. I hear some paper rustling on his line, "I just got an e-mail... about tampons being ordered from my account-"

I cut him off quickly, heat rising in my cheeks. Wow, the internet hides no secrets these days, "Err, yeah. Sorry, I'll pay you back. I just... well, Violet accidentally clicked on something, and uh-"

He laughs warmly. More rustling, "It's fine, Tris," the way he says my name makes me shiver, "If you need tampons, help yourself. I don't mind."

"No! No, it really was an accident. Violet was ordering a costume, and uh... I tried to stop her-"

"Yeah, I got another e-mail about a costume. Wednesday Addams, huh?"

I laugh, "Yeah... Wednesday Addams."

A comfortable silence falls upon us. I can hear his heavy breathing through my phone until he says, "I really miss you."

"I'll see you in a few hours," I answer, trying to hide my smile in my voice. Being casual isn't working for me.

My feet take me to his bedroom. I look out of the window, watching the moon shining behind heavy grey clouds.

"Fuck it," he breathes, "I'm on my way."

 **Sooooo, what did you think? Review! :)**


	29. The Slacking Off

The next day, Violet is at school, which means my meetings with Eric are back on.

I leave my purse in the car (I know, it's bad) only taking away my car keys and a jacket. The sky is the darkest shade of grey today. It makes me feel cold. And I am certain that it's either going to rain or the whole city will get some early snow.

I strut into the lobby of Lexi Plaza, folding my arms across the desk in reception. The lady doesn't look up at me, "He's training right now."

"Training? What does that mean?"

Her blue eyes glance up, slightly narrowed, "He has a class," I am about to ask more until she points behind me, to a big arch, "Go through there and take two lefts."

"Oh, okay," I smile, "Thanks."

I get lost for two minutes, wondering which two lefts I had to take. The sound of gunshots leads me right to him. I'm a bit taken aback. Gunshots. Guns… like real guns.

I see a metal door with a square window, muffled gunshots exploding. It has to be that room. I look around quickly, watching people walk up and down the corridor casually, morning coffee steaming out of their paper cups. Okay, so there isn't a terrorist attack or anything. This is normal.

Hesitantly, I push the door opening, loud claps of thunder suddenly making my ears ring. My head sticks out of the door, cautiously scanning my surroundings. There is a person with a long ponytail right in front of me, fluffy ear muffs hiding her ears. I think it's a female. But it's hard to tell. She is ripped.

Her arms are extended, a black pistol snug in her hands. I don't see the targets because of a wall, so I'm assuming she is shooting at them. She has to be aiming at something.

Shaking my head, I push myself in, eyes scanning the dozens of people practicing their aim. They are all in these slots, separated by a grey wall between each of them.

It doesn't take me long to spot him because he is the only person who is out of these cubicles. His arms are crossed over his chest, an unimpressed frown upon his face. It makes me smile how he can go from wearing a suit one day, to owning a black T-shirt the next.

Better for me, I get to see his tattoos.

His eyes find mine and he looks like he's seen a ghost. Seen a ghost like Eric would see a ghost- curious, probably coming closer, probably wanting to touch it. A normal person would run away.

"You're early," he growls, grabbing my arm and crashing his lips against mine.

I pull away, "But you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind," he chuckles, hands finding my hips in record time.

I look around ostentatiously, gesturing with my head, "I didn't know you taught how to shoot," I didn't know a lot of things.

"I'm full of surprises," his face stays straight, a line appearing between his eyebrows. I giggle, and he steps back to yell, "Okay, wrap it up!" Everyone in the room puts down their guns, eyes on the floor, "We're finished for today."

I watch as muscular men and women walk out of the door, some nodding a goodbye to Eric, some completely ignoring him. A smile finds my face when he kisses my forehead.

"You're not exactly an open book, are you?"

Eric smiles, shrugging one massive shoulder apologetically, "I'm working on it."

The room becomes loud with the whirl of air conditioning. I look up at the metallic ceiling, knowing how his eyes are on me all the time.

"Want a free lesson?"he suddenly asks.

I laugh because it's funny, "Um, no thanks," he furrows his eyebrows, "For all I know, you could charge me afterwards. And... I don't need to learn how to shoot."

"Because you're so good?"

"No," I smirk, placing a hand on his chest which he immediately covers with his own, "Because I don't need to."

He seems to be buffering a machine in his head for a moment, looking around and moving his lips from side to side, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I answer. I told him about my parents. But I didn't tell him how they died. And quite frankly, coming this close to a gun will not do me any favors emotionally.

"Fair enough," he says, wrapping his arms around my whole body, "Are we going up to my office?"

I giggle, noticing a spark igniting in his eyes. Going up to his office has become our thing. We eat, make out, and do nothing productive. I nod. But then I ask, "Wait, don't you have a lesson?"

"I'll cancel it,"

"Eric," I say, shaking my head, "Don't be stupid."

"From what I can see," he leans in closer, kissing the corner of my mouth, "I have more important things to do."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

He allows me to sit in his big chair. And I take great pleasure in answering his calls. Well, I only get as far as introducing myself, and then I have to pass the phone to Eric... who is standing behind me, hands on my shoulders. Then he speaks into the device, resting his chin on my shoulder. I have to suppress my giggle for the sake of whoever is talking to him.

He hangs up, going back to squeezing my (apparently) tense shoulders. My whole body shudders when his hand finds the base of my neck. I look over his office, my vision becoming spotted with fireworks.

"What are we having for lunch?"

I close my eyes, leaning back into his touch, "Hmm... I dunno."

I feel the vibrations of his laugh through his hands.

"Do you know when we're having our date?"

I open my eyes, looking up at his upside down face, "You want me to decide?"

He nods slowly.

"Umm..." I lean forward, feeling his hands pull away, "I don't think Violet is up for going to another sleepover," I have a mini heart attack because it sounds like I'm insinuating that we sleep together. His face is plain, so I don't think he noticed.

"Yeah," he agrees, looking out into the distance. Through the window, at the rainy city of Chicago.

"Should we tell her-"

"Not yet," he barks, coming round me and leaning down on the floor, his head hovering above my lap. I place a hand on his hair, enjoying the way it glistens when I push my fingers through it, "I could take a day off,"

"No, don't neglect your duties," I reply, raising an eyebrow when he grins. It's obvious he wants to say something, but he lets it go.

"I'll take the day off."

"Eric-"

He shuts me up with a long, hot kiss... which somehow turns into a five minute make out session. Afterwards, we pull away and order a pizza. His receptionist delivers it up to his office, an envious scowl on her face.

 **Review :)**


	30. Halloween

**Here it is. Your extra-long Halloween chapter :)**

Violet requested a dozen pumpkins. So I had to go from store to store, looking for them. Annoyingly, they run out fast closer to Halloween, and we are only a day away. But I did manage to get some. Not a dozen... only five. And I am prepared to face Violet's wrath.

Christina texts me, whining that I am not going to be spending Halloween with her. She was invited to a party and she wanted me to tag along. I had to tell her that my boss' daughter wants me to trick or treat with her. As expected, she didn't really understand my life choices. But I don't care.

"Only five?" Violet places her fists on her hips, watching me haul the massive vegetables across to the kitchen.

"That's all they had," I answer.

"Who's 'they'? Walmart?"

I roll my eyes, smirking when she picks up one pumpkin and carries it into the kitchen. I catch up eventually, releasing a long sigh, "So what are we gonna do with these pumpkins?"

"I want to paint them black," she replies, wrapping both arms around a particularly large pumpkin on the table. She has to be on her tip-toes to reach.

"Yeah, sure. We can paint them black. Do you have any black paint?" I shove my car keys into my back pocket, taking a seat on the bar stool and pouring myself a glass of water. This is the most exercise I have ever done.

"No... You'll probably have to buy that too," she clicks her tongue, taking out a small rectangular device from her pocket. I have a mini heart attack. She flicks her hair over her shoulder and starts typing, thumbs quicker than her tongue.

"Excuse me? Who gave you that?" Violet looks up, confusion clouding over her eyes.

"My daddy did?"

"Aren't you a bit young to have a phone?" Oh my God, she is not ready for the online trolls.

"It's not a phone, grandma. It's an iPod," she rolls her eyes, showing me the screen, "See?"

I lean forward, taking in a classy list of songs. And by 'classy' I mean hardcore R&B.

I sigh deeply, running a hand through my hair. I decide not to carry on with the conversation.

SHSHSHSHSH

Eric comes in an hour later, kissing Violet's forehead. He then proceeds to kiss my cheek, and I jump in fear that Violet saw, but her back was turned to us all this time, "What are you girls doing?"

Nervously, I edge away from him, grabbing a knife, "We're carving pumpkins."

Eric gives me a smirk before rolling up the sleeves of his beige sweater and pushing a square-shaped pumpkin to his side of the table. He decides to stand as he plunges a sharp knife into the top of the pumpkin.

"Dad, do a clown!" Violet exclaims, ditching her smaller pumpkin as she scoots closer to him. I smirk, looking back down at my design. Simple triangle eyes, a zig-zag mouth and a small square for a nose. Okay, it isn't scary, but it's the only thing I can do. I look at the table. Two pumpkins to go.

"A clown?" Eric asks, pulling out his iPhone, "Here, find a design. Don't make it too hard though."

I rub my hands together, cringing as they make a squelching sound due to all the pumpkin insides, "I need to wash my hands," Not waiting for anyone to reply, I make my way to the kitchen sink, hearing Violet groan behind me.

It takes two rounds of soap to wash all the slime off of my hands. And even after that, they feel dirty. I think I will have to leave the other pumpkins to Eric and Violet.

I walk back over to Eric's side and sit down on the chair he has not occupied. Playfully, he nudges me with his hip. I look up and see that he is grinning.

"Tris, where is your costume?" Violet asks, leaning forward on the table, balancing on her arms.

I glance at Eric before answering, "Oh... no, I don't have one yet."

"Well, Halloween is tomorrow," she widens her eyes, tilting her head to the side.

"I'm aware," I smirk, "You haven't recommended anything though," I know she'd like it if I speak like she is in charge of everything.

"I told you. Clown."

"I'm not dressing as a clown," I smile, Eric finally sitting down next to me.

"I think you should be a zombie," he says, his arm powering the knife in his hand. Pumpkin carving is for strong people. My arms ache after one single vegetable.

Violet puts down her knife, all the tension leaving the room, "We have to go shopping now."

"What about the pumpkins?" I ask.

"Screw the pumpkins. I'm not going outside with you looking like yourself."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

The next day, Violet calls me in. I hesitate before replying, "Hello? Where is your dad?"

"He's dead. I killed him."

"Very funny," I roll my eyes, but something inside me stirs. With Violet, the line between joking and being serious is very blurred, "Violet, why are you calling?"

"I told you," I can hear her roll her eyes, "I need your help mopping up the blood."

I am in the middle of putting on my shoes when she hangs up, "Hello? Violet?"

SHSHSHSHSHSH

The door to their apartment is open and my heart starts racing when I push it open. This is ridiculous. It's obviously a prank. Why am I even having doubts? Of course Violet wouldn't kill Eric.

The apartment is silent when I walk in, and the only sound is my breath shooting through the air. Quickly, I take off my jacket, hanging it up neatly on an empty coat hanger.

"Violet?" I call out loudly, rolling my eyes when she doesn't reply. Very funny. Very funny.

I kick off my shoes and tip-toe into the apartment, looking around every corner. I check the gym first, seeing nothing but a treadmill and some weight machines. Other than that, the room is empty.

"You can come out now," I shout, pausing in the middle of the hallway, trying to listen to any sounds she could be making- whispering or bumping into things or giggling.

I stand there for a minute, my heart starting to beat faster. I wouldn't say I'm frightened (which is what she is going for, right?), but the atmosphere definitely makes me feel uneasy.

All of a sudden, the front door slams shut behind me and I whip around, finding no one to be there, "Violet?" I make my voice confident, but inside I am shaking. In addition, I glue my feet to the floor, not wanting to move toward the door.

Something grabs my waist from behind, making me shriek. I widen my eyes when I turn, seeing Eric doubling over in laughter.

Violet comes out from the living room, shaking her head, "Dad, you ruined it!"

"No, I just couldn't bear scaring her like that-"

"Like what? Are you saying this was all a build up to something?!" I put a hand on my chest, taking deep breaths.

"Yeah, we were gonna throw fake blood at you," she sighs and comes out into the hallway, grabbing Eric's hand, "But you ruined the surprise!"

Eric runs a hand down his face, finally calming down, "She was already scared-"

"You were in on this?" I ask, pointing at Eric's chest. He smiles and looks down in guilt, tucking his hands into his pockets. Behind him, something black is moving and I realize that he is wearing a cape. What the hell is going on?

"We bought you a costume," Violet changes the subject, standing between us. I glance at Eric, my heart rate gradually slowing down.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair, "You did?"

SHSHSHSHSHSH

I stare at myself in Eric's bedroom, his full-length mirror as clear as day. I glance out of his window, fog coating the city. This is actually the perfect Halloween weather. There isn't too much sun. It's dry, but misty, setting a chilling atmosphere.

Glancing back at the mirror, I raise my shoulders up and down, feeling the costume rise and fall on my body. It's not too ostentatious. It's mostly black. Violet was smart enough to choose a costume that covers my entire chest. I have a black turtle neck, accompanied with a long flowing dress. It's ripped and shredded at the bottom, bits spray painted with green. Violet wants me to paint my face green as well, but I have already decided against it. I put on my pointy hat, grinning. People won't be confused. It's clear who I am portraying.

There is a knock on the door.

"Come in," I say, smiling when Eric's big frame appears, "Do you think I look wicked?"

"As wicked as ever," he jokes, closing the door behind him. He crashes his lips against mine, hands rubbing up and down my covered arms.

I pull away slowly, smirking as he continues to kiss down my neck, "Aren't you dressing up?"

"It's not my thing," he replies, nibbling at my jaw. I gasp, pushing him back slightly. He grins down at me.

"Come on," I chuckle, "Be a sport."

He pretends to think for a moment, scratching the back of his neck, "I don't think so, Tris."

I roll my eyes, turning away and watching him behind me in the mirror, "You're boring."

"Boring?" his eyes narrow as his hands find my hips, "You take that back."

I giggle, thinking nothing of it, "And what if I don't? Will you crush the bones in my neck?"

As on command, his wraps a hand around my throat and squeezes gently, "If it will make you comply," his whisper in my ear sends a shiver down my spine.

"It won't," I say, feeling blood draining from my face. Imagine if he killed me. That would be so scary. And random. The thought makes me laugh.

"What?" he asks, his hand finding my collarbone through the turtleneck.

"Nothing."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Eric carries the bag of candy we managed to scoop through the night. It's surprisingly big, making me wonder how persuasive Violet was when she knocked on doors. She asked us to wait on the streets while she walked up and down the alleys of people's houses. Perhaps she was a bit persuasive, but so what if she was? We got a whole bag of candy and everyone is happy.

Violet takes the sack off of Eric and walks further into the apartment, her black wig branding her unrecognizable from the back. I wipe some red lipstick off my lips with a tissue I found in my pocket. It has become surprisingly itchy.

Awkwardly, I glance at the clock on the wall, waiting for Eric to shrug off his coat so we can follow his daughter, "It's almost nine..."

He turns to me, pecking my lips when he is certain that Violet is out of the view, "Stay a little longer."

"What are you two babbling on about?" We both turn to see Violet's head peeking out from the living room door, "Come on. We're watching movies."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Eric made her wash off all the make up and get into a pair of PJ's before we all settled on the couch. I too got changed into my regular clothes. Violet sat between me and Eric, being the official popcorn holder of the group. I don't try to get any just in case she decides to slap my hand away. Eric, on the other hand, takes scoops, devouring the snack in no time.

His arm is draped over the back of the couch, hand just managing to graze my shoulder. I smile slightly, trying not to blush. Violet's shoulder is pressed into my elbow. Her whole posture is slouched.

We are watching a film called _Asylum_ which is obviously a horror movie. The pair never flinch, but I have to shut my eyes a couple of times to avoid the gory details on TV. I still don't understand how Violet is allowed to watch this. But there really isn't anything she can't handle.

I watch the screen until it becomes unbearable, and that's when I turn to look at Violet. Her whole body is leaning against Eric. Her face is peaceful. And her eyes are closed. I reach across and place a hand on Eric's shoulder. He looks at me, chewing the popcorn over and over.

"She's asleep," I whisper, smiling when he looks down at her.

"I'll take care of it," he mouths back, taking the empty bowl of popcorn off her lap. I grab it quickly, placing it on the coffee table. Smoothly, he wraps an arm around her body and lifts her up, making sure that her head is on his shoulder. I watch as he walks out of the door with her limp body in his arms. I pause the movie, relief flooding over me. At least I don't have to watch that anymore.

It takes him two minutes to tuck her in, after which he returns to the couch, mouth attaching to my ear, "Stay over."

"You don't think it would be weird when Violet wakes up and finds me in your bed?"

Eric smirks, pecking my lips, "I didn't say anything about my bed. You made that up on your own."

I blush, nuzzling my face in his neck. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me onto his lap, "I have to go, Eric."

We pull away at the same time to make eye contact. He kisses me slowly, "You're okay to drive?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," we both smile and then I laugh, "I'll see you tomorrow."

He presses his lips against my forehead, a hand tangling in my hair. I wish I didn't have to go, "Move in to the guest bedroom."

"What?" I widen my eyes. Did he just...?

"I said... move in to the guest bedroom," his eyes are totally serious, "You can sleep there if you have to look after Vi till late o'clock," Late o'clock? Who says that? It's probably their thing.

"You're asking me to move in?"

"To the guest bedroom," he clarifies. We both smile.

"I'll... I'll think about it, okay?"

He looks like he is about to say more, but then he just nods, "Okay."

 **I hope you all enjoyed your Halloween! Review :)**


	31. The Demands

**Welcome back! God, the amount of work I have. Apologies for the late update.**

Four appears in front of me, reeking of alcohol. I try to push the door but he is stronger than me, and it ends up slamming into my shoulder. He walks in, going straight for the kitchen. His loud voice calls to me, "So you're moving in with him now?"

"What?" I raise my eyebrows and reluctantly follow him deeper into my own apartment. I'm already pretty pissed off that he just barged in like he lives here... or owns me. And he's only been in my presence for ten seconds.

His pupils are dilated when he turns to look at me, "You're moving in with your boss?" he spits the last word out like poison. I can't tell if it's the influence of alcohol or something entirely different.

"What are you...?" I pause, folding my arms, "Tobias, this is very random-"

"Are you moving in with him or not?"

"No! Maybe!" I gulp when his eyes narrow, "What the hell does this have to do with you? You can't just barge in like this-"

He cuts me off, slamming his fist into my table, "What the fuck does that creep have to offer anyway? Money? Are you that shallow?"

I run a hand through my hair. It's pointless to defend myself. He doesn't have a clue what he's talking about. All of this is pointless.

"Can you get out? Please?"

He glares at me from across the table, hands lingering on the wooden chair in front of him. For a second, I'm terrified that he'll throw it or something. He wouldn't do that normally, but now that he's completely pissed... who knows?

"I want you back, Tris," he pleads but his eyes are way too cold.

"Get out," I say again, pointing towards the front door he left flung open. In a split second he stumbles past me, heading towards his exit. I prepare myself for his last, dramatic words but instead he huffs, slamming the door behind him.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Eric is in an extra good mood today. It doesn't take him long to plummet back down to being concerned though.

"What's the matter?" he asks, pulling me into his bedroom. I have to glance around to make sure Violet is still asleep. Judging from his hushed tone, she is, "Miss me?"

I smirk, kissing him back once his arms snake around me, "Hell yeah."

His lips curve against mine before he pulls away, "What's the matter?" he asks again.

"Nothin'," I shrug, fixing my arms around his torso. He gives me a serious look, and for a moment I try to keep a straight face, just like he is doing. But soon I break into a smile. He just sighs, glancing down at my feet.

"Come on, I have all day," he says, stepping away.

Well, there is no point in keeping it a secret. He is just as stubborn as a mule anyway. Idly, I scratch the top of my head, "It's just... Tobias..."

"Ah, the number guy," he folds his arms, tilting his chin upwards. His big boy posture. I try not to get distracted by the way his tattoos seem to move along his arms.

"Yeah, him..."

Eric's jaw clenches, "What'd he do?"

"Nothing! He's just... acting weird,"

"Weird?"

"Yeah," I reply, noticing how I've started to swing my arms back and forth. Immediately, I press them closer to my body. I choose not to elaborate. Thankfully, Eric stops interrogating me.

"Should I be concerned?" he pulls me closer, placing a hand in the crook of my neck.

"No," my hand rests on top of his. I feel him relaxing. Gradually.

"Well, then," he clears his throat, kissing my forehead. I lean against his kiss, closing my eyes, "If anything happens-"

"Nothing will happen," I smile, "I think he's just in a bad place."

I feel him sigh somewhere above me, and I don't know if it's a sigh of relief or frustration. The last thing I want is to create tension between us. All because of a drunk guy.

His kisses trail across my collarbone where he stops to suck at my skin. I gasp, tilting my head back when I find his wrist under my neck. He mumbles something- to himself or to me, I don't know. I hear none of it.

"Come to my office," he grumbles, "Not for lunch. Come earlier."

I giggle, biting my lip when I remember that I can't be too loud, "Your receptionist won't let me in-"

"She will," he pulls away to look into my eyes, "I'll add you to the visiting list."

"Visiting list?" I raise my eyebrows, "There has to be a more important list for me."

I hope he can tell I'm joking, because those words don't mix right in my mouth. His lips twitch upwards, "You want me to give you a key card to get in?"

I laugh quietly, shaking my head, "No, it's okay. I'll go through the reception."

"No, come on," he presses, "I can give you a key card. You will be able to get into my office. That's how much I trust you."

I look down, smiling to myself. Sometimes he says things like that and doesn't realize how good it is for me to hear them. The silence stretches and he speaks again.

"Have you thought about my offer?"

"I don't need a key card-"

"No, about moving in," he says, playing with the ends of my hair. We sway from side to side gently and I feel weightless.

I take a deep breath before replying, "I don't know, Eric."

"I really want you to-"

"We haven't even been on our second date and you want me to move in?" There is a tumble somewhere in the apartment. Probably Violet waking up. We step away from each other.

"Tris," he sighs, "You'll have your own room. Some people sleep at their workplace you know... makes things easier."

"That's what is weird about it," he furrows his eyebrows, "We're... going on dates and... kissing..." I glance up at his twinkling eyes, "And I'm going to sleep in a separate bed? And Violet doesn't know about us-"

"I'll give you some time to think about it," he concludes, glancing at the door when Violet calls out, "In here, honey!"

I step away again, finding an interesting piece of material on my shirt to play with.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

When I get to his office, it's 10pm. Hesitantly, I knock on the door. There is a shuffle of papers and the thud of footsteps, and then Eric opens the door. Before I can say a word, he pulls me in, slamming the door behind me.

"Hey! What are you-"

Rudely, I am cut off with a passionate kiss. His lips are warm and he tastes of strong coffee. My feet stumble back, threatening to cave in every second, but his strong arms support my body. I find myself giggling against his mouth, feeling his hands rub up and down my body.

Eric lifts me up for a second, and then drops me onto something soft. Presumably the couch near the window. I open my eyes, having no choice but to lean back. He towers over me, lips attached to every bit of skin he can find.

"We're on our second date," he whispers, not afraid to trail a hand up my shirt. Obviously, I gasp at the feel of his skin on mine. He cups my rib cage, fingers tracing the bottom of my bra.

All the blood rushes down to my core, wetness covering my entrance. I grab Eric's hand and intertwine our fingers. He squeezes gently, pulling away to look into my eyes, "Move in with me."

"Not yet," I say, our lips meeting once again.


	32. The Drunk

**Just a heads up, this story is coming to an end. Well, kind of. There is much left to write about, so don't worry. Besides, I'm thinking of writing a sequel when this story is finished. If you like that idea, make sure you let me know in the reviews.**

 **Anyways, enjoy this chapter.**

I have chosen to wear a knee-high skirt on this particularly cold day. It's worth the pain. Because later Eric sees me, and his reaction to what I'm wearing is priceless. Today, he hides what he is feeling, which makes me wonder if we are playing some sort of game.

"You could be my secretary," he whispers into my ear, hands gripping my hips. He avoids touching my bare legs. I am almost disappointed.

"I'm not qualified for that."

I shift in his lap, feeling his iPhone poking my thigh through his trouser pocket. I tuck my arms under his jacket, feeling the crisp shirt he has ironed this morning. Then, I press my head against his chest, warmth overwhelming me. It is especially nice when I glance out of his office window. It has started to snow.

"Just answer my calls. That's all you have to do," his lips trace my ear, sending a shudder down my body.

"You don't want me to be a nanny anymore?"

"You can be both. I'll have you around all the time," he pulls away to look into my eyes. He winks at me.

Would this really be a good idea? How serious is he about this? First he asks me to move in and now he wants me to work with him... Things are moving too fast.

"Eric," I release a laugh, shaking my head, "Let's talk about this some other time."

I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat, a small smile appearing on my mouth when he kisses the top of my head.

"Okay."

His hands rub up and down my back, occasionally skimming the top of my thigh. I have to cross my legs because that familiar feeling returns. Eric hums a low note.

"What?" I ask, amused at how noisy he is today.

He opens his mouth to talk and then quickly shuts it. I feel his legs adjust underneath me, "I want you."

My eyes widen at his bluntness. I pull away slightly. I glance away.

He laughs softly, "What's the matter?"

I look back at him and see crinkles in the corners of his eyes. His lips are slightly parted. His stubble looks too prickly for my skin. I feel my stomach churn, "Do your work."

He laughs again, "Whatever you say, boss."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Towards the end of the day, there is a knock on the door. Violet is drifting off to sleep in her bed and I have to tip toe out of her room, racing against time to get to the front door. Who the hell is this? Especially at this time.

Another knock rings out through the apartment, making me jump. If Violet wakes up, it will be on me.

I open the door without any hesitation and stumble back when I see Four. His hair is ruffled. He is wearing a black suit. His tie hangs loosely around his neck. His eyes are wide with something scary.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I whisper, blocking his way into the apartment with my arms. He pushes past me though. I am not strong enough.

"You're making a mistake," he says way too loudly. My heart picks up the pace. Eric will only be home in two hours. I can't deal with him by myself. But I have to try.

"Keep your voice down!" I whisper loudly, grabbing his wrist and trying to pull him back to the door, "There is a child sleeping in this apartment! How did you even find me?"

"I want you back-"

"Oh!" I groan, storming out of the apartment as quickly as possible. Four grabs my wrist once we're out in the hallway and pushes me against the wall, "Get out of here, I'm working!"

"I'm not going to let you humiliate yourself like this," he growls, leaning down to my face. I smell the beer on his breath and my stomach churns, "A nanny?!"

"Get the fuck off me!" I use all my strength to try and push him off, but the fatigue of the day is too powerful. Even if my adrenaline is sky rocketing right now, "You'll get me in trouble!"

Four glares down at me before finally backing away, running a hand through his messy hair. I take my chances and leg it back to the door, shutting it quietly. My main priority is keeping Violet at bay. I pray to anyone who is listening that she didn't hear any of this.

"How the hell did you find me?" I ask again, pressing myself against the door protectively.

"Christina told me," his answer is simple. His eyes glue back to mine, some sort of anger swimming in the depths of his soul.

Of course she told him. She would tell him anything. I bite my lip to hold back the word vomit. Tobias starts mumbling.

"He's not right for you," he says, all matter-of-fact.

I roll my eyes, hand finding the door handle, "Leave."

"He's not right for you!" he yells. I jump slightly, contemplating whether or not I should make a run for it back inside, "You're not going to ignore me again. I give you everything, and I apologize and bring you gifts, and you still follow that scumbag around like a puppy!"

I try to thing what he thinks he is always 'apologizing' for, and the first thing that comes to mind is him making out with Christina back when we were together. I have gotten over it. And he is a drunk mess. He is not thinking clearly.

"I'm here to do my job and look after his child," I say calmly, clenching the door handle, "So I suggest you go home and forget this address, otherwise I will have to call for authorities."

He laughs sharply, head tipping back, "Did he train you to say that? You don't sound like yourself at all."

"Four, please leave," I press, running out of patience. If Eric finds him here, he would be angry with me for attracting drunks when I am supposed to be watching his daughter. He wouldn't fire me, but I don't want to make him upset.

Tobias starts pacing the hallway like a scientist, searching the floor for answers. Quietly, I open the door and walk inside, knowing full well that he can see me.

Suddenly, he looks up and I freeze in the door frame. But his eyes don't land on me.

"Who the fuck are you supposed to be?" Violet barks, eyes squinting against the fluorescent lights. Oh, my God. This is not happening.

I lean down in front of her, grabbing her shoulders, "Go back to bed, honey-"

"That is no way for a little thing like you to talk," Four comments. I spin around to glare at him.

"Yeah? Well, there's a shitload more of where that came from-"

"Violet!" I scold. Why does this always happen to me?

She looks up at me with her tired eyes and I give her a look.

"Please, go to bed."

To my surprise, she nods and leaves. But not before shooting a last glare towards Tobias.

I turn back to him with contempt on my face. He is too drunk to notice, "Leave," I order, knuckles turning white from gripping the door handle.

"This isn't over," he gestures between us, turning around and heading towards the elevator. When I get home, I am having a word with Christina. This is getting out of hand. Either she stops blabbing every little detail to my ex about my current love life, or I will... I will do something I may regret.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Violet is sat on the edge of her bed when I get back into the apartment. Her long hair has formed curtains on her head. I wonder if she is sleeping or not. When I walk in, her eyes shoot up. Well, that answers my question.

"Is he your boyfriend?" she asks, hiding a yawn.

"No," I smile, walking over to hold her blanket out of the way. She slithers under the covers and I drop the duvet on top of her, "Go to sleep."

She sighs loudly, laying down on her side. After a minute, she looks back up at me, "I won't tell my dad."

"Thank you," I grin, watching as sleep takes over her body. Sometimes I wonder if she has some sort of telepathic powers, because I realize that she is agreeing to keep this whole event a secret from her blood. For me.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Eric comes home thirty minutes later. By then I am half-asleep and convinced that Four has departed to my apartment. Fucking Christina probably. I don't know. I don't care. I really don't.

I lift my heavy head from my hand and look up at him smiling down at me, "Stay over," he repeats for the thousandth time this week.

He kisses me slowly, lifting me up to my feet as I struggle to keep upright.

"You're too tired to drive," he says. It's a good point. A very good point. Damn it.

I bury my face in the crook of his neck and close my eyes, inhaling the now weak cologne he is wearing. His skin is hot against my face, which somehow makes me even more sleepy.

"Come on," he whispers, "I'll set up your bed," his lips land on my temple and I let him carry me to the guest bedroom, where he makes me wait on a chair while he fluffs up the pillows nobody has ever used before.

I crawl into bed after wriggling out of my jeans. I don't care if he sees me like this. Actually, I don't think he even looks. When I get in, the mattress is so soft, the pillows are so puffy that it doesn't take me long to lose consciousness.

Somewhere in between all of that, I feel Eric plant a patch of kisses on my neck.

 **Review :)**


	33. The Herbal Tea

**Thank you for your enthusiasm on the last chapter :) Hey, if you want action, I can give you action. And not just the violent kind. Wink, wink, wink.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one.**

His breath tickles my neck. I pull on a tight smile, wondering if I'm smiling as wide as I am imagining I am in my head. My eyes open and the first thing I see is the darkness of the morning sky. It's super early. And Eric already smells fresh from the shower, and his blood is hot from the morning exercise.

"I'm leaving for work soon," he whispers, trailing his lips across my cheek. I roll over slowly, receiving a kiss on the lips. It's short and sweet.

"It's Saturday," I whine, arms going behind my head to stretch. He backs away, pulling the duvet higher up my body.

"I'll be gone for a couple of hours," he whispers, "And then I'll be back," I feel his lips landing on my exposed collarbone.

Suddenly, the events from yesterday afternoon start flooding back, blurring my perfect vision. I open my eyes, watching the silhouette of Eric's head move further and further away from me. I reach out and grab his shirt, "Wait!" my voice cracks and I clear my throat.

He stills, leaning back in to kiss my lips, "What is it?"

"Erm..." okay, how do I say this? My crazy ex boyfriend came over here yesterday and tried to take me back using force? Oh, and your daughter witnessed it. But it's not like she was shocked or anything. You do allow her to watch grown up films after all.

I run a hand through my hair, wondering if I should tell him at all. Will he be mad? Probably. But I can't carry this relationship on lies. Especially if it's so brand new.

He sits on the edge of the bed, watching me expectantly. I reach down under the covers and nervously start to rub my hands on my bare thighs. He smiles slightly, clearly oblivious to what I'm about to say.

I sit up slowly, "Do you remember Four?"

His smile becomes tighter, less genuine. One of his hands goes to rest on his knee, showing off his muscular arm, "Yeah."

I try not to dwell on how blunt he becomes. If something was bothering him, why didn't he confront me sooner?

"He came here yesterday," his eyes snap straight at me. I look away, "I'm just... he knows where I work and-"

"What did he want?" without looking up, I can tell that he is glaring.

"Nothing... I don't know... he wanted to see me-"

He cuts me off again, "You let him into the apartment?" This makes me finally look up. And as I predicted, his eyes are cold as ice.

"No!" I reply, "I made him stay in the hallway," Okay, that is a little white lie. He's been in the apartment for two seconds.

Silence stretches between us, but I can hear his heart drumming in his chest. He is angry. But I feel that I still did the right thing by telling him. Slowly, he turns his head to look at me, "Was Violet in bed?"

I gulp, hoping someone would crash through the ceiling or something to take all the attention off of me. I start playing with the edge of the duvet, forcing my words out uncomfortably, "No, she came out to voice her opinion."

Immediately, he stands up and runs both hands through his hair. I choose to keep my mouth shut, fearing he will make me feel even guiltier about the incident if I said something in defense. I won't stand up for myself. I think I would be pretty pissed if his girlfriend came by my house drunk while my daughter was there to witness the whole thing.

He walks out of the room, muttering something under his breath. Stupidly, I get up and tug my jeans on before following after him. We meet again in the kitchen, where I try to take his hands in mine. He steps back. It sends a dagger through my chest.

"Look, I'm sorry," I breathe, "I didn't even know he knew where you lived-"

"Don't bring your personal life into work. Do you understand?"

I scowl inside, his tone giving me the impression that he's my big bad boss and I'm a useless employee. Which... well, it's kind of true, isn't it? It stings.

I nod, mirroring my timid actions from the first day. I can't look him in the eye. He's absolutely right. He releases a heavy sigh before brushing past me.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," he grumbles, "I'm running late for work."

SHSHSHSHSH

"You _told_ him?" Violet's eyes are as wide as sauce pans. Her hands stick to her hips, "Are you dumb?"

"No, okay?" I frown, placing the plate full of pancakes in front of her, "Lying is wrong."

"You weren't lying, you were keeping quiet," she corrects, taking a sip of her herbal tea. I raised my eyebrows when she asked for some. Apparently, herbal tea can help you grown fangs. And right now, Violet is keen on becoming a vampire.

I smile slightly, wondering how she can remain so innocent sometimes after everything that goes on in her life, "Well, I feel better after telling the truth."

"Bullshit," she scoffs. So much for trying to be a good role model, "Let's see if he fires you."

I widen my eyes, turning to look at her, "You think he will?" Something inside me churns. He wouldn't do that, would he? We're... we're connected. We do stuff... things other people wouldn't do. I still, thinking it over. What if he does that to everyone he hires? What if he has a reputation? All the blood drains from my face.

Violet brings me back to life, "Let me call him."

I shake my head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "Why?"

"Do I need to give you a reason?" she looks more confused than me. Not thinking much of it, I grab my phone and dial his number. What if he doesn't pick up? What if he thinks it's me calling? I swallow my fears and hand her the phone. She takes it from me, making a rude comment on how I should be able to afford a more decent model by now.

From where I am standing, I can hear Eric's gruff voice when he answers. Violet's face lights up, "Daddy?"

I sigh, turning back to rinse my empty cup in the sink. When he comes back, I have to go home. And confront Christina. Why would she tell Four about where I work? Was she that stupid to think Tobias wouldn't actually show up on Eric's doorstep? I can feel the anger rising inside me as I put the dishes away into a cupboard.

SHSHSHSHSH

Eric comes back ten minutes after the phone call. That's when I know that I have to make my exit. We bump into each other near the front door, and by the way he avoids my eyes I know that he doesn't want to talk. Yet, I remain stubborn.

"I'm sorry," I whisper after putting on my shoes. He scribbles something down on today's cheque and hands it to me. When I don't move, he shoves it into my jeans pocket, "I said I'm sorry."

"I heard," he replies, taking off his winter jacket. A lump forms in my throat, and painfully I swallow it down. Everything was fine three hours ago.

Something moves in my stomach and I feel like I'm going to be sick. I don't like this. I don't like this at all.

"Eric," my voice cracks. That grabs his attention. I reach for his hands, clinging on to them for dear like. I half expect him to shrug me off, but surprisingly he intertwines our fingers, "I'm sorry," I repeat, tears coming to my eyes. Instead of giving me a sympathetic sigh, he gives me a tiring one. Is he tired? Is he tired of me? Is he tired of our little fallout?

One of his hands comes up to my face and he wipes away a tear with his thumb. After that, I manage to blink them back. I lean against his hand, catching a scent of cigarette smoke on it.

"Okay," he says, pulling me closer.

"It wasn't my fault," I say, pressing my face against his chest. He strokes my hair- his way of reassuring me. I break into a smile, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt.

I have to talk to Christina.


	34. The Broken Famiy

It started snowing when I left Eric's place. I dust the white flakes off my shoulders and ruffle my hair, shuddering at the cold. I really need to get a new coat.

I unlock my front door and walk in, feeling brave enough to start an argument. An argument I have been practicing in my head all morning. I don't want to fall out with Christina, but if she takes this the wrong way (and she probably will), maybe a fallout is all we need. I can't keep brushing away the things she does. She might think they don't bother me, but they do. They do.

The apartment is unusually quiet, and smells of... men? I swear to God, if I find them in my bed it will be the last straw.

"Tris," Christina's voice comes from the kitchen. I look up and see her waving at me, a tired smile on her face. Her voice is toned down to a whisper, "You stayed at Eric's?"

"Why are you whispering?" I ask normally. She disappears behind a door. I have to follow my instinct and march into the kitchen, curiosity taking over. Once I get in, she closes the door behind us, wiping her greasy hands on her pink apron. I glance around and see a pile of bacon on the table, "Why I are you whispering?"

She shakes her head, gesturing to the door, "Four is asleep on the couch." A spark flares up in my chest, but before I can even say anything, she cuts me off, "He came over late at night. Drunk."

I watch her with clenched fists as she returns to the stove, turning it off.

"I'm guessing you blew him off," a small smile appears on her face, "He came here. I think he wanted to wait for you but you never turned up."

"So what? Did you fuck him?" It spills out of my mouth uncontrollably. I don't regret it though. Even when she turns to face me with a shocked expression.

"What-... no, obviously," Christina takes a step back, placing a hand on her hip, "Where did that come from?"

I shake my head, brushing past her to look out of the window. It's snowing hard. The grey ground is no longer visible. Except for a few sleety boot marks here and there.

I take a deep breath, my prepared speech going out of the window. It's best if I say it how it is, "You told him where I worked," glancing back at her I see that she is still recovering from my previous accusation, "Do you realize that he came to Eric's house when his daughter was asleep? She had to witness him pushing me out of the apartment!"

"It's not my fault he is drinking away his pain! How was I supposed to know he'd be like that with you?" she keeps her tone hushed, but I have no sympathy for his sleeping form in the next room. So I hold nothing back.

"You knew!" I shout, making her jump, "You knew I didn't want anything to do with him after what you did! Why would you think it's a good idea-"

"Woah!" she yelps back, "What _I_ did? He came onto me!" I remember how he kissed her at that party all that time ago. She kissed him back. I felt sorry for her. But now she is taking things too far, "I told you I was sorry!"

"Well, I guess everything is okay then!" I reply sarcastically, hearing a thump in the next room. Great.

Christina wipes imaginary sweat off her forehead, a crease appearing between her brows, "I said I was sorry," she repeats, "I didn't want to come between your relationship, but you can't blame me for your ex following you around like a stalker! He wanted to see you, I told him where you are-"

"How could you possibly think that was a good idea?!" I yell, "He is trying to wedge his way between a family!"

"What family?! A bitch of a nine year old and a failure of a dad?! Oh, wait. I'm forgetting something... Yeah, a whore nanny pretending to be a mother-"

I snap. Without hesitation, I launch myself at her. She widens her eyes and stretches out her arms, holding me at a distance as I try to grab something, anything. How dare she speak like that about Eric's family? And me? A whore?

Christina shuffles backwards, trying to get away from me as I release my fist. Just in time, someone grabs me from behind and yanks me backwards. I smell his morning breath and in that moment I know that I am sandwiched between my so called best friends.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Christina yells, managing to escape into a dark corner of the kitchen. Four keeps his arms around my body, restraining me from any movement. I growl, feeling more and more angry when he opens his mouth.

"Tris, calm down-"

"Let go of me!" I yell. He drags me out of the kitchen, releasing me in the corridor. By then, my motivation to fight has disappeared. And I just want to get out.

I storm into my bedroom, grabbing a dusty bag from under the bed and throwing it at the closet. The double doors open with a squeak and I shove my arm inside, swiping all the clothes out.

"Hey, hey, just calm down," Four approaches behind me. I bite on my lip to refrain from swearing, "What are you doing? Come on-"

"Don't come near me!" I point my finger at him before zipping up the chunky bag and throwing it over my shoulder. He raises his hands in the air, desperate to reason. I won't listen. I won't even look at him. I am so done.

Christina shows up in the doorway, clutching her apron, "Leave the keys. You are not taking my car!"

Gladly, I throw them in her face as I leave the apartment. I sense Four's presence behind me until I slam the front door in his face, "Leave me alone!"

To my surprise, I don't see him when I walk out onto the street. It's still snowing. And my hair becomes coated in white within minutes. I blink away the snow that lands on my eyelashes, looking from left to right. My shoulder is already aching from the heavy bag. I adjust it and start walking towards the main road. Now, I regret that I gave away they keys. Whatever. If she wants the car, she can have it. I can walk.

Tears start stinging my eyes as I pass a couple of blocks. The snow lands on my neck and when I pull up my jacket, I feel the cold, wet substance on my collar. I shiver, shaking my head from side to side. Violet is probably outside, building the world's most terrifying snowman with a pair of scissors in his head instead of a carrot.

For some reason, the thought makes me choke back on a sob. Life has never been easy for her, yet she is managing just fine. And all it took me to break down was an argument with my best friend.

I take a moment to look up at the snow white sky. A walk to Eric's would take about thirty minutes. Forty five with the snow to slow me down. How do I even know he will let me in? How do I know he's still not mad at me? He doesn't need me today. He's at home with Violet, making igloos and snowmen.

But I need him.

I pull out my crappy phone and start dialing his number. My thumbs go numb when I press the green call button and I feel a single tear stream down my cheek. Fucking cold. Fucking everything up.

He answers on the second ring, "Tris."

I smile to myself, sniffling before replying, "Hey," there is a silence, so I continue to speak, "Can you pick me up please? I don't have my car." He's still mad at me. I can feel it. It makes me choke back on another sob.

"Where are you?" he asks, voice as steady as ever. I tell him the name of the street and drop my bag down onto the ground. A cramp appears in my shoulder and I massage it with my blue hand, "I'll be there in ten minutes."

I hang up before he has the chance. I don't have the strength for that kind of rejection. Not today. Not from him.

SHSHSHSHSH

His stylish car pulls up at the side of the road. Someone is in the passenger's seat. A hint of blonde hair. Fuck. Violet.

Quickly, I turn away and wipe at my face. She's smart enough to know what is happening. But it doesn't mean I can't at least try to look okay. I can't believe I am causing so much drama for Eric's daughter. It's a Saturday. She shouldn't be driving around in a blizzard with her father, chasing down some homeless bitch. I gasp quietly, blinking the rest of the tears away.

The car door slams shut and a figure appears behind me. The heaviness on my shoulder lifts away. I hear Eric grunt as he swings the bag over his own. Then his hand appears on my back, more firm than usual.

"You okay?" I turn to look at him and nod slightly. Behind his shoulder, Violet's head bounces up and down in the car window. I'm guessing her favorite track is on the radio, "We'll talk at home. Come on."

I notice that he is wearing a black knitted sweater, and a massive scarf is covering his neck. He touches my hand and squeezes it gently. I feel how warm his skin is compared to mine.

"Jesus Christ," he mumbles to himself.

I climb into the back of his car, slamming the door shut behind me. The air is so warm in here. The back of my hair is soggy and cold against my neck. I try not to move. I just have to make it to his apartment.

I feel the car shift as Eric opens the boot to throw my bag in, "Are you staying with us?" Violet pipes up, her eyes inspecting me as she twists in her seat.

I smile politely, "I don't know." She reaches around and takes my hand. The gesture is so unexpected that I am left wondering if it ever happened. Once Eric gets in, she turns back around and buckles up her seat belt. Smartly, to avoid any awkward conversation, she turns up the volume of the radio.

I glance up at the mirror and watch as Eric's eyes observe me all the way home.

SHSHSHSHSH

When the apartment door closes behind us, everyone goes back to their business. Violet skips away after taking off her boots. Eric makes a show of hauling my massive bag further into the apartment. And I stand there in their hallway, too cold to move. That is until Eric comes back, taking my thin coat off of me.

"Go straight to the bathroom," he orders, "I will make you a drink," he wipes a few dry tears off my cheeks, "Tea or coffee?"

"Tea," I whimper, sniffing. He makes a face, leading me away from the door.

"Come on. Before you catch a cold."

We enter the bathroom and he helps me set up the shower. Being the crybaby I am, I start sobbing quietly, hot tears giving me a small headache.

"Stop crying," Eric demands, starting to run the water.

"I'm sorry," I apologize, running both hands down my face. I don't see him in the blur in front of me, but when he wraps his arms around me, I can imagine his face looking stern. Unbreakable.

"What are you sorry for?" he asks, hand starting to slowly stroke my hair.

I press my face against his chest, listening to the water as well as his heavy heart beat. He pulls me closer, kissing the side of my head.

"Everything," I say, "Please don't be mad at me."

"I was never mad at you," he shushes, starting to kiss along my head until he reaches my temple, "Shh. Come on. Stop crying. Please."

He cups my face in both of his hands, pulling away to look at me. There is a small smile on his face and it's infectious.

"Get in the shower," he waits for me to nod before continuing, "I'll make you a cup of tea," he leans down to peck my lips, "And then you'll tell me why there is snot all over my bathroom floor."

I laugh weakly, receiving another kiss on the forehead.

"Come on. Don't break my heart."

 **Extra long chapter for you guys.**

 **There is a lot to reflect on here, so many sure you tell me what your favourite and least favourite moments were in the reviews :)**

 **Lots more to come.**


	35. The Promises

**Just to clear this up, guys, Christina did not sleep with Four, Tris only thought she did.**

 **Thank you for all your feedback. Let's see what happens next ;)**

I take out some pants and a sweater from my big bag of clothes, pulling them on quickly. My hair is still wet from the shower, and being the lazy bitch that I am, I choose not to blow dry it but instead go over it with a towel before leaving it tucked behind my ears.

It strikes me hard that I am now officially dependent on another person. If something happens, I am on my own. No car. No place to stay. Eric is saving my life. And considering everything I put him through, I am unsure of how long this will last.

I take out my phone and see that I have five missed calls from Christina and one from Tobias. With a huff, I turn it off and toss it onto my temporary bed.

Eric is in the kitchen when I walk in, stirring something in a cup of tea. My cup of tea, I'm presuming. It better be sleeping pills.

He glances up at me, sending the metal teaspoon through his mouth for a second before tossing it into the sink, "Ready to talk?"

"Yeah," I brush my hair back, folding my arms tightly across my chest. He walks up to me, bringing me into an embrace. I press my face against his chest.

"Tell me what happened," he orders, pulling away to take a seat on the bar stool near the window. Snowflakes fall behind him and I am unable to see his face from the brightness until I come and sit next to him. He pushes a steaming cup of tea towards me slowly. I curl my fingers around the mug, grateful for the warmth on my hands.

Under the table, he presses his knee against mine. I lean towards him slightly.

"I don't even know," I sigh. He doesn't accept my answer. One of his hands goes to my face, tapping on my chin with his finger. I sigh again before speaking, "I confronted Christina... about, err... Tobias," he tilts his chin upwards, furrowing his eyebrows, "I told her that he came over here because she blabbed about where I work."

I sip the tea and realize that it tastes like mint. Scorching liquid passes my tongue and I have to blow on the water. This is rich people beverage. I've never had mint tea.

"You had an argument?"

I nod, putting down the cup, "It got personal," I remember how she called Eric a useless father and a twinge of anger flares up in me again, "I had to leave... and she claimed the car..."

I look up to see Eric's reaction. His face softens slightly and idly he scratches the bridge of his nose. Shit. How am I supposed to take Violet to school?

"I'm sorry," I blurt out, running a hand through my damp hair, "God, I'm so selfish."

"You're not selfish," he states, eyes focused on the table, "I would have done the same thing." Oh, I highly doubt that. He's probably only saying that to make me feel better.

"I am selfish. I can't even do my job properly. How will I take Violet to school?"

He opens his mouth to answer and I cut him off.

"I have to go back. I'm going to take the car-"

"Tris," he says, grabbing one of my hands, "Stop. You're not going anywhere."

I intertwine our fingers and wait for him to continue. There is no way to know what he is thinking. And I am getting impatient.

"What do I do?" tears spring to my eyes again and I literally hear Eric roll his eyes in his mind. He reaches out to cup my face with one large hand, pressing his thumb to the corner of my eye.

"We will figure it out. Don't start crying again."

"Eric, after tomorrow I am supposed to be taking her to school," I blink away the tears, looking into his eyes, "Can you sense the urgency?"

I didn't realize I was being funny, because all of a sudden he releases a genuine chuckle. Like... he is amused.

My brows knit together in confusion. He leans back in his seat, flexing one muscly arm, "I'll get you a car. I'll get you everything you need."

I smile as well, "Very funny."

"I'm serious-"

"No, you're not-"

Eric grabs my arm and lands a loud kiss on my cheek, "I have more money than I need. I will provide you with a car."

I choke out a sarcastic laugh, which makes him furrow his eyebrows. And he actually looks pissed, "Can we please be real here? For one second," I point up with my index finger, "I'm not putting you through the trouble of hiring me a car. Do you know how much paperwork that will take? Not to mention the money-"

He grabs my finger and pulls me out of my seat. I gasp and he maneuvers my body around, landing me straight into his lap, "I didn't say anything about hiring a car."

I giggle because his arms squeeze me around my waist to keep me on his leg. And it starts to tickle.

"I'll buy you one," I watch as his arm reaches out and he grabs my cup of tea by the edges on the top. His arm disappears behind me and I hear a quiet slurp. Then, he places the cup back where it was. And half of the beverage is gone, "Just tell me what model you like... what colour... all that girl stuff."

I roll my eyes, "As tempting as it sounds, I will have to pass on that opportunity," his lips press against the damp hair at the back of my head and I feel his lips curve into a smile.

"You think I'm joking," he murmurs.

I tilt my head back until it rests comfortably on his shoulder. God, I hate this. I can't even flip a table. In this lifetime, I always have to go back and stand it back up. Just like I have to make up with Christina. For the sake of others.

I sigh softly, "Right," leaning forward, I wiggle out of his grip and stand on my feet, "I'm gonna go and get my car back."

Unexpectedly, Eric grabs my hips and kisses my lower back, chin pressing against my ass. It's so intimate, I have to blush. Thank God he can't see my face right now. But he thinks nothing of it.

"What model?" his voice sends a vibration through my body.

"Eric, stop," I take a step forward before turning around to look at him. He raises his brows, one elbow resting on the table top, "I'm going to get my car back," it hits me all of a sudden how powerless I actually am. My eyes scan over the kitchen. I fold my arms in order to raise authority. Eric smirks, "Take me to my apartment."

"No," he replies, a challenge glistening in his eyes.

"Eric," I warn, moving my hands to my hips. A change of position, "Take me to my apartment, _please._ "

He rests his elbows on his knees, looking up at me with the most gorgeous of looks, "No."

I cup his face in my hands and he closes his eyes. I feel his prickly bears on the most sensitive parts of my skin. I feel his soft lips as I trace them with my thumb. He puckers his lips to kiss it.

"I'll just have to take a bus then,"

"In a blizzard?" his eyes open, "The services are down."

"Then I will walk-"

"I won't let you," he promises, lips pressing against one of my wrists.

I groan in defeat, "Eric, I need my car! I have to do my job properly-"

"I told you," he raises his voice, standing up to tower over me. It's less intimidating when he starts trailing kisses down my jaw, "I am buying you a car. What model?"

The thing with Eric is that you never know if he will start taking things too far. I can deny it all I want but deep down I am fucking terrified he will buy me a car. He might actually do it. He's Eric. He's batshit crazy. That, or incurably rich.

SHSHSHSHSH

An hour into our whole car 'argument', he finally convinces me to stay. With a little help from his wine. At first, I was reluctant to drinking it again. But this has been a really long day, and warm wine does not sound half bad. Even when I know it will knock me out like it did on our first date.

"Are you getting pissed?" Violet asks, a smile playing on her face. I am about to scold her for swearing but Eric beats me to it.

"All right, that's it," he growls, walking into the living room, "No TV tonight," he grabs the remote and switches the flashing screen off. Violet jumps up with pure shock on her face.

"Dad!"

"Come on, that's a little harsh," I chime in, taking a seat on the sofa with a glass full of alcohol. The duo turn to look at me in unison. I sip.

Okay, I admit: if this was my first day I would never condone to a nine year old girl using that kind of language. I don't know what happened but something flipped. Eric turned strict and I went soft. I look up at Eric, chewing on my bottom lip.

"You vouch for her?" he asks, serious eyebrows raised.

"I do," I say, looking back at Violet. She grins, grabbing the remote off her father before he can react. And then I see Animal Planet... of all things she could watch. I think we all changed.

Eric walks past us and towards the window, looking out at his snowy city. He tucks his hands into his pockets, starting to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet, "I think it's the wrong kind of day to build a snowman."

Violet flips her hair over one shoulder, glancing around at him, "We'll just do it tomorrow."

I lean forward to place my glass of wine on the coffee table. Violet jumps down on the couch next to me, a mischievous smile on her face. It's contagious. I smile back, "What is it?"

She starts playing with the hem of her shirt (which is totally unlike her) and then presses her chin to one shoulder, "Have you ever played 'Hunter'?"

"Is that like a board game?" her smile drops and she rolls her eyes.

"No, it's not a board game."

I chuckle, intertwining my fingers and grabbing one of my knees, "Okay, what is it then?"

Her small chest rises as she takes a deep breath before starting to explain, "One person has to be the hunter. And that person walks around the apartment," her finger gestures around in a circle, "searching for the other people in the game. And if he or she finds one person, they have to look together for the last remaining one."

"So... hide and seek?"

"No," she frowns, "The hunter has to carry a flashlight. And all the lights in the apartment will be off."

"Creepy hide and seek?"

Violet rolls her eyes, shaking her head, "Are we going to play or nah?"

I glance up at Eric, who has approached us very slowly. He folds his arms over his chest, winking at me, "Let's play."

 **Review :) What do you think of this chapter? Excited for their little game? What about Eric's car promises? I want to know ;)**


	36. The Games

The clouds outside have darkened, so when we turned the lights off it was very hard to see anything. Violet nominated Eric to be the 'hunter' of the game and I was not surprised. He is the most intimidating out of us three, and I have no doubts that he will work hard to bring his predatory character to life.

He kicks us out of the living room, shutting the door behind us.

"Okay," Violet whispers, "We have forty seconds to hide!"

I smile sightly, replying in a normal voice, "Okay, where do we go?"

She raises her eyebrows, "We? You're on your own," with that, she skitters away, her socks causing her to slip around the floor for a while. I giggle quietly before heading in the opposite direction. But where to go?

I notice the glass door of Eric's indoor gym and make my way over, taking all the time in the world. It opens quietly, and when I walk in, I stub my toe on the treadmill, "Shit!" I whimper quietly.

Behind me, a stream of light flashes on, creating a single beam to flow out of under the door of the living room. I close the door as quickly and quietly as possible before tip-toeing over to the weightlifting set. Conveniently, there is a small door behind it and when I open it with a creak, all I see is darkness. It's probably a cupboard for old stuff. It definitely smells old. Not like Eric at all to have this in the apartment.

I climb in, minding my head. The space is extremely small. The walls press against my arms either side. And I cannot see a thing when I close the door behind me. My auditory senses are heightened. I hear Eric's footsteps out in the hallway, patient and slow.

I press my face against my knees, the humid smell of wood pungent in this environment.

He walks past the gym, footsteps fading away. I smile to myself, imagining Violet trying not to giggle from her large closet. In about five seconds, she will be busted. And then she'll probably somehow blame it on me.

For some reason, the gym becomes alive. Somebody is here. I watch the stream of light in the slit under the cupboard door, flickering back and forth. Unsure. I hear his heavy breathing. And then I hear him whisper my name.

I smile, leaning back against the wall and releasing a small hum. Next, Eric carefully opens the door, and the massive flashlight on his shoulder blinds me. Quickly, he puts it down, and even then when I close my eyes, I still see the bright orb in the middle of my vision.

"Shit, sorry," he whispers, noticing how my eyes are squeezed shut. When I open them, he looks anything but sorry, "Having fun in there?"

I smirk, reaching out in the hopes of him pulling me out. He grabs both my wrists and I grab his; our arms intertwine as he pulls me onto him. I stifle a chuckle, wrapping my arms around his neck. His grey eyes glisten in the faint light. Without any warning, his lips find my neck. I suck in a breath, eyelids fluttering closed.

"It takes everything for me to not just fuck you here on the floor," his whisper is harsh against my ear. I shudder, tilting my head back.

"Shouldn't we finish the game first?" he pulls back and smiles at me. I smile back. It feels like a long time because my knees start to ache. I dig my teeth into my bottom lip when one of his hands starts to brush up and down one of my hips.

After ages of fighting against his urges, he releases a breath, "Do you know where she is?"

I shake my head, trying to contain myself as he kisses my temple, "Maybe you should check her bedroom."

"We will," he replies. I feel his thumb tracing the bottom of my chin and when our eyes meet again, I cannot look down. My entire complexion flushes. I wonder if he can see it in the dark.

"Come on, let's go and find her," I pipe up, standing on my feet. Eric follows suit, not utterly convinced that I am enjoying this game. We could stay here and make out... but Violet is sat somewhere in the dark, waiting to be found.

Quietly, we both leave the gym, and Eric masters his position of balancing the squared torch on his shoulder. His arm muscles flex as he presses the torch further against his neck. I walk slowly behind him, trying not to lose my cool. Concentrate on the game, Tris.

"Come out wherever you are," Eric starts singing as we approach Violet's bedroom. I giggle quietly, pushing the door open. He walks in first, a smile playing on his face when he sees the curtains move. I bite my lip, deciding to stay in the doorway.

He lingers around the wardrobe, pretending for a while that he has no idea where she is. At one point, I see her peek out to try and make a run for another safer spot. Eric catches her before she can do anything, shining the light on her laughing face.

SHSHSHSHSH

The wine is taking longer than usual to knock me out. Perhaps I am building a sort of immunity the more I drink.

My legs are folded beneath me, the glass of wine perched in my hand. The TV is on, another episode of American Horror Story playing. Violet is on the floor, unraveling the game of Twister carpet. I realize that she can't play on her own.

Snow falls in huge flakes outside the window. It is completely dark now, but I don't think it's very late. I estimate it to be around six o'clock.

Eric leans down onto the floor, helping Violet set up the game. When she asks if he is going to play, he shakes his head. So I guess I have to be the one to save the day.

"Get up, Tris," Violet raises her eyebrows, hands resting on her knees. I smile slightly, glancing at Eric.

"I have to play?"

"Someone does," she says in her best 'duh' tone. I smirk wider and place the wine onto the coffee table. Eric moves away from the carpet, brushing a hand over my hip when I pass. I shudder, wanting so badly to lean against his touch. I notice him taking my seat on the couch, giving me a wink when Violet turns away.

"Dad, you spin the thingy," she tosses the spinner as if it was a Frisbee. He catches it with one hand before placing it on one of his knees. On his other knee he balances his laptop, which seems to be taking up most of his attention.

I run a hand through my hair, feeling myself getting a bit lightheaded. I can't complain. This is exactly what I need.

Violet puts her hair into a ponytail, momentary getting her hand stuck in the hair tie. I am tempted to reach out and help her but I feel like that is not my place.

"Okay," she sighs after all the hair is out of her face, "I will go first," I like how she assumes that I know how to play Twister. I guess I am a very smart looking person after all. No surprise there.

"Go for it."

She gestures for Eric to spin the wheel and he does so with one hand, rubbing the bottom of his chin afterwards, "Right hand, blue."

I smile and watch as Violet slams her hand down onto the blue circle closer to her, as if making a point. This could get competitive very quickly.

"Left foot, blue," Eric calls out to me. I glance at him and see that he is too busy looking at his laptop screen to notice my mischievous smile. Violet, however, picks up on it very quickly.

"Left foot, blue!" she yells.

Three minutes later, our bodies are tangled up in the most uncomfortable position. My arms start to weaken around her and I genuinely fear that I might collapse and squash her tiny body. She has no fear in her eyes. Her brows are furrowed and her face is strained as she struggles to remain stationary beneath me.

All of a sudden, I squeal and roll away from the game, landing on my back. Beside me, Violet collapses as well, but instead of sounding like a wimp, she laughs and whoops, "Finally!"

I laugh softly, turning my head to look at her, "No more. Let someone else play."

Of course, I am talking about Eric. At that moment we both glance up at him only to see his head tipped backwards against the couch, hands rubbing up and down his face. Well, he's not the only exhausted soul in this room.

Violet turns back to look at me, eyes alert, "He's boring."

I smile, watching her sit up and turn her attention back to watching TV. I stay laying on the floor, lacing my fingers together on my stomach. It is quiet for a long time before Eric asks Violet, "Is she asleep?"

I answer for her, "No."

SHSHSHSHSH

Eric asks Violet if she is tired enough to go to bed. She answers with a yawn at which point Eric casts a small smile in my direction, "Say goodbye."

Violet turns around in the doorway, making a lazy attempt at waving at me. I wave back, leaning back against the couch after they both leave the room. Strangely enough, all I feel in my head are butterflies. I don't feel like I am going to pass out. And I am definitely not drunk. I had one glass of wine. One big glass of wine that came from Eric's dodgy company. Hmm... maybe I really am developing an immunity.

Hesitantly, I pull my phone out from the new jeans I got changed into after the shower. I switch it on, watching the screen come to life along with a little tune. The first thing I see is my phone call icon bouncing up and down impatiently, with a red circle underneath. In that circle, I see the number 26.

Once I press the button, Christina's and Tobias' names pop up. 26 missed calls in total. Are they really that worried about me?

I go onto my texts, scrolling down through a lengthy list of what looks like a bunch of complaints, all from Christina.

11.05 am

 _Well, I hope ur happy_

11.10 am

 _Four broke our shelf in the kitchen, are u comin or wheat_

11.11 am

 _What*_

I roll my eyes.

After about ten messages, she starts acting concerned. It's nearly 10pm. I'm guessing that I should at least let her know that I am not out in the streets. I text her a quick reply, telling her that I am not coming back tonight, but I am with Eric.

Before she has a chance to spam my feeble phone again, I shut it down, shoving it into my back pocket.

Eric walks in, closing the door quietly behind him. He rubs the bridge of his nose before stalking over to me, "She's asleep."

"That fast?" I move over, creating space for him to sit. He falls back onto the cushions, hands landing behind his head.

"I guess it's been a long day," he replies. I wonder if he is taking a dig towards me and my baggage. Nah. Can't be.

I shuffle closer to him, being met with his big arm going around my waist. The room is totally quiet now. Violet is asleep. The TV is on mute. Only the faint blizzard wind can be heard on the outside. If you think about it, there is nothing here to stop us from fucking each other's brains out. But something does. Maybe he's right. Maybe it has been a long day.

He pulls me into his lap, and I bury my face in the crook of his neck. I hear his heart beating steadily against my ear, slowly lulling me to sleep. He pats my back before I can though, whispering something into my ear, "Come on, babe."

Getting to my bedroom is a blur, but I make it. Stupidly, I forgot to pack my PJ's in the fight with my best friend, but Eric is kind enough to lend me some of his. I pick a blue shirt from his wardrobe, knowing that he has never ever worn it before in front of me. I can see why. It's blue.

As I lay in the dark, snuggled up with the softest duvet I have ever had in my life, the image of Eric flashes at me. I hug the pillow. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst idea if I gave him a little visit. As long as I go back to bed before Violet wakes up, right? She won't know. It could work. If I am extra quiet.

Without further hesitation, I slip out of bed and make my way through the hallway, tip-toeing past Violet's room. I reach his door and open it as quietly as possible, closing it gently behind me once I am in. It's deadly silent.

I stumble through the room and finally reach his bed. With my hands, I pat down the mattress and lay down on one part of his enormous king size. Inch by inch, I shimmy my way closer to his warm body. Soon, I bump into his bare chest and then finally I can take a breath.

His arm wraps around me, "Make yourself known."

"It's Tris," I whisper back, smiling when he lands a kiss on the top of my head.

"Goodnight, Tris."

 **Apologies for those who thought Tris and Eric would have sex ;)**

 **Review :)**


	37. The Early Morning Activities

**Thank you for your feedback, once again :)**

Rapid pounding wakes me up.

I open my eyes to the darkness, except for a little luminosity in my peripheral vision. The first thing I do is stretch. My arms seem to extend out on the bed, never reaching the edge. And then I realize why. Because the bed in enormous.

Eric is nowhere to be seen, but something tells me that he may be the source of all that noise.

I sit up, brushing the satin covers off my bare legs. Somehow the button-down shirt has opened up at the top of my chest and I take a moment to fasten it back up before slipping out of bed.

Heavy flakes of snow fall outside the window, bringing a glow to the sleeping city. I turn to notice that Eric's digital clock is displaying 5:30 am on the nightstand. Oh my God, what does he have against sleep? I might ask him.

Running a hand through my messy hair, I walk towards the noise of the pounding until I reach the glass door of his gym. It's brightly lit inside, and I wonder if it is possible for me to go blind by stepping in. My eyes are squinting when I open the door as quietly as possible and walk through. The noise stops.

Eric turns at the change in the atmosphere, wearing only a pair of black sweats. His upper body is glistening and he has these white strips of material wrapped around his hands. Beside him, I notice a red punching bag swaying from side to side.

He smiles slightly, eyes lingering a bit too much on my bare legs, "Morning."

I rub the sleep away from my eyes, stifling a yawn, "What are you doing? It's five in the morning."

He draws out a long breath, "Part of my regime," he turns his attention back to the punching bag, taking some time tightening the bands around his hands, as if waiting for me to leave before continuing. The light makes his muscles stand out just a tiny bit more than usual, and I am especially interested in the 'V' shape above the waistline of his pants where a patch of hair starts to trail down.

"Come back to bed," I brush closely by him, allowing my hand to rest on his hip for a second. He jumps slightly, obviously not expecting that touch.

One of his hands grips my shoulder, pulling me in. I giggle as the heat of his blood radiates against my face, "Eww, you're so sweaty."

He grins, tightening his hold on me, "Go away. You're distracting me."

"Am I?" I smirk, playfully running a hand up my thigh. When his hand replaces mine, that smirk fades away. His lips crash against my lips, body pressing into mine. I gasp when he grips my thigh, thumb circling waaaaaay too close near my lady bits. I pull away with a giggle, "Come back to bed."

This time, he replies with, "Let me shower first."

SHSHSHSHSH

I feel myself fading away in his bed. Knowing I still have a couple of hours of sleep left makes me feel so happy. Because I am so tired.

I listen to the shower behind the wall, my arm extended onto his cold pillow. I smile knowing he will be here soon.

The next few minutes are a blur. I didn't know I was asleep until I felt myself jolt awake. When I open my eyes, he is there in the room. Wiping himself down with a towel. It's too dark for me to see detail, but I see the silhouette of his boxers as he pulls them on.

Automatically, I stretch, arching my back in exhaustion. Eric joins me in bed minutes later, puling me into his enormous chest. I sigh happily, draping an arm over his no longer sweaty body. His lips linger on my hair, switching between kissing me and breathing.

I tilt my head up, hoping he is conscious enough to sense my lips next to his. I feel them on me afterwards; I hear them kissing the sensitive parts of my neck. When our lips meet, I no longer feel like my soul is leaving my body. My senses are heightened for some reason. I am wide awake.

"Take me," I breathe, gasping when he presses me into the mattress. His hands run up and down my body, taking too fucking long to get to the actual business. I don't know what comes over me. I suddenly become brazen.

His breathing is hot on my neck as he reaches for the curvy parts of my body, squeezing wherever he can. I release a quiet moan, which switches on a predator in his eyes. He whispers something into my ear, but I let it fly over my head.

He squeezes my right breast through the shirt, and I stroke up his inked arm, reaching for his shoulder, "Eric."

The mattress shifts beneath me. I feel him nuzzling between my legs, something hard pressing into my soaked underwear.

His eyes are everywhere. Like a kid entering a candy store, he doesn't know what to grab first. I shove his hand away when it starts to unbutton my shirt. He gives me a funny look, and I honestly understand where he is coming from. But I feel like time is running out. We can skip all the shit. We can skip it, right?

"Just take me," I shake my head before it falls back on the pillow.

He nods, gulping back his salivation.

I rub my thighs against his hips, desperate for some sort of friction. He notices and gingerly starts to grind his hips against mine. I moan again, arching my back as he pulls off my underwear. My heart beat speeds up, and I am certain he feels it against his own chest when we press together. I gasp when I feel his heated erection graze past my throbbing sex. Our eyes meet in the dark and then his lips are back on mine. His tongue brushes past my bottom lip as I snake my arms around his neck.

His arm reaches for the nightstand where he manages to knock off a few things before successfully retrieving a foil package. I run my hand down his muscular chest, hearing only the sounds of our heavy breathing. He brings the foil to his mouth, tearing off the edge and spitting it out over his shoulder. My stomach flips when I feel his hand sliding on the condom near my thighs.

I let out a cry when his fingers feel for my entrance. He doesn't take it as a sign to stop and pushes one of his fingers inside me briefly. I chew on my lip, squeezing my eyes shut.

He grunts softly, replacing his fingers with his cock. I completely lose it.

His hand clamps over my mouth for the sake of preservation of Violet's childhood. I whimper against his skin, squeezing my legs closer to my chest to send him deeper. Eric presses his lips together in a firm line, hand gripping the pillow beneath my head. I feel how it starts moving underneath me due to the force of his thrusting.

My hand clutches the top of his. My jaw starts to ache as he battles to keep my mouth shut. I slap his arm away and turn my face into the pillow, his lips joining with mine seconds later.

His hand grips my leg below the knee, bringing it higher up for him. I hiss slightly when he slides in his full length, which is pretty fucking big for this time of day.

Our eyes meet again when he captures my bottom lip with his teeth. I whimper loudly, yet again getting a palm over my face. It's hard to breathe, but I don't complain. I roll my head back, hearing his quiet grunts above me. The headboard squeaks when his hand slams against it. We both stop at the noise. But when nothing comes as a response from Violet's room, he continues to move inside me.

I moan when something starts fluttering in my stomach. I think Eric feels it, because his pace becomes quicker. He crashes his lips against mine, grunting out my name with difficulty.

He sends me over the edge, every muscle in my body flipping in cartwheels. I throw my head back, nails dragging up his bare back. He groans quietly into my neck, grabbing a fistful of my shirt before stilling inside me.

He gasps louder than I've heard during our session, which can only mean one thing.

I tangle both hands in his hair, moaning as his weight gets heavier on my body.

The orange sunrise is on the horizon, reflecting onto the white wall of Eric's bedroom. We both pant until he finds the strength to roll off me, which is when I snuggle up to his chest, feeling like I have missed out on a week of sleep.

After a couple of minutes, his voice brings me back, "Never had that before."

I mumble back, sleepily, "What, sex?"

His chest vibrates softly before he whispers, "Being caught in the moment."

"Oh, me neither," I feel his hand running up and down my back through the shirt as I start drifting off.

"Y'know, I was planning how our first time would go," he says. I guess he was starting to tell me a story but pillow talk does not agree with me. I don't remember how it ended.

SHSHSHSHSH

The sun is bright on my face the next time I wake up. I don't feel so tired anymore. A few extra hours of sleep can't go wrong. Especially if you wake up at five in the morning.

I sit up in bed, suddenly remembering what has happened. Beside me, the bed is empty. Surprise surprise. I rub my eyes and stretch out my back, a smile appearing on my face. I've actually had sex with Eric. And it was nothing like I expected it to be. His words echo at the back of my head. I planned it differently too. But I wouldn't change what has happened last night.

To my left, I see my clothes, neatly folded on a chair. They have come with a note which I can read from my comfortable position: **_Wear me!_**

I grin, slipping out of bed carefully. Yes, I probably should wear them. Violet is still in the apartment. It would be a bit of a shock if I walked out of the room in a half torn men's shirt. But it would be a bit of a shock if I walked out of Eric's bedroom anyway. Maybe she's still asleep. Maybe if I hurry, she doesn't have to see me like this.

Quickly, I get dressed before pulling my messy hair into a huge grip at the back of my head. I make the bed, covering where I have slept with cushions. When I am happy that the room looks normal, I walk out and head straight to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and rinsing my face with cold water.

 **Okay, I had to stop it there because the next chapter will be full of more surprises. You wouldn't be able to handle it if it was all in one ;)**

 **Review and tell me what you think :)**


	38. The Shopping Spree

**Thank you so much for all your reviews!**

 **One thing I'd like to touch upon is Eric and Tris' first time. I appreciate that I didn't go into detail and all that, but that was the most perfect scenario I came up with for them. It symbolizes a hectic life, on Eric's behalf, and I felt like it just made sense for them to get to the point. Be caught in the moment.**

 **Anyway, enjoy this one :)**

The kitchen is warm with this morning's frying eggs. As I walk in, the sizzle of the bacon seems too loud, so I immediately shut the door. Violet is still asleep from what I have gathered.

Eric smiles when he sees me, putting down the frying pan and sauntering over. Behind him, the table is set for breakfast; the orange juice sits in the middle, soaking in the white light from outside. Three plates are empty around it, waiting to be greased with food.

I blush when he captures my lips with his, muttering a 'good morning'. I mutter it back, keeping my eyes on his chest as I wrap my arms around his neck. I feel his warm hands slide up the sides of my shirt, grazing my bare skin. It sends a shudder down my spine, which he takes note of.

"This morning was amazing," he says, tilting my chin upwards so I can finally meet his eyes. His are darker than usual, filled with something I haven't seen before. They crinkle at the ends when he smiles.

"It was too quick," I state.

He furrows his eyebrows for a short second before shrugging it off. It wasn't meant to be an insult, but he made it one. Anyway, he took it pretty well.

"I can blame you for that," he says, making me laugh. Then I remember Violet and shut my mouth.

"Me? How was your stamina my fault?" I poke him in the chest playfully, wincing when he grabs that hand. He's still smiling.

"There was no time to warm up," he teases, and I try to wriggle my hand away from him. He squeezes tighter. I start giggling, suddenly making it into a game. He grabs my other hand, sending me falling into his chest. It's not like a soft pillow at all. More like pecks made of steel. I have to take a moment to adjust my nose, thinking it somehow looks different from the impact.

Eric kisses my ear lobe, whispering quietly, "Next time, I won't be so gentle."

"Aw, come on," I chuckle, "Don't take it out on me."

He pecks my lips over and over again, pressing me closer until I start struggling for breath, "You've been warned."

"I'm in trouble," I joke, throwing my head back. He starts to kiss my neck.

"Yes you are," he bites down on a part of my skin, making me jolt in surprise at the pain, "Don't think I'm joking."

I wipe away my mischievous smirk, replacing it with an 'Oh, shit' kind of expression. He furrows his eyebrows at me, finally letting go. We just stand there feeling cold and abandoned until he moves even farther away from me to flip his bacon. Hmm. Maybe I should not have said what I did. Christina always told me that men care more about their ego than their partners.

Christina.

I feel my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and contemplate calling her. Eric speaks up, "I have a surprise for you, by the way."

My eyes lit up and I drop my hand by my side, "A surprise?" I place one hand on my hip, watching his biceps tense as he lifts up the heavy frying pan.

He glances over at me, giving me a wink, "Breakfast first." With that, he grabs my plate to pile on the colorful breakfast. I see green spinach and vibrant yellow eggs, along with perfectly fried bacon. Just the look of all the food makes me salivate. Behind me, the door opens, revealing Violet all dressed up and ready for the day.

SHSHSHSHSH

Eric and Violet take turns with keeping my eyes closed. Of course, I have to lean down so that Violet's hands can reach my face.

"Nearly there," Eric says, leading me further and further away from the apartment. I feel the cold air hit my bare arms and I don't need anymore evidence to know exactly what the surprise is. He didn't. He couldn't have done.

I feel a jacket going around my shoulders and swallow my breath, standing like a statue, "Why are we outside?"

The world is black but I am certain that Eric is grinning down at me. He takes away his warm hand from my eyes, but I keep them closed for a little longer.

Finally, I am ready. And I force them open. I see Violet skipping towards a huge white structure. It's a fucking car. I think my heart stops briefly. Violet traces her hands along the car's bumper, clearly just as curious as I am. But she is not surprised. Which makes me wonder...

"Eric, I told you-"

"I know," he holds both hands up, unable to wipe that smirk off his face. Some snow has fallen onto his hair and the furry collar of his coat, "It's an early Christmas present."

"It's a car!" I turn to look at it again, new questions bubbling up inside of me. How did he buy it? Who brought it here? How much was it? How does he feel comfortable at all? All the blood drains from my face. It's a car.

It's a huge car. It is definitely (at least) a six-seater. From here, I can see that there is lots of space between the driver's and the passenger's seat. So much space. Why is there so much space?

"It's a Seat Ateca," Eric clarifies behind me, a hand on the small of my back, "It's the newest model... with winter tires. And a key less entry."

The car is snow white. It almost blends in with the weather. There are two sets of headlights at the front, slowly curving into the bonnet. The side windows are darkened for privacy, yet they still manage to blend into the clean look. It's so good. It's just too perfect.

"I... I don't know what to say," my eyes scan around the model in awe.

"You could try 'thank you'," he offers, nudging me closer to my present. I smile widely, turning around to throw my arms around him. He hugs me back, a small chuckle in his chest.

"Thank you," I say, feeling Violet's eyes in my back. Out of modesty, I pull away first. It's a hug. Normal people hug. Especially when one of them gifts you a car.

"Come on, let's go take a ride," Eric smirks, walking over to Violet.

"Wait, now?"

He turns to look at me, furrowing his eyebrows. Behind him, Violet widens her eyes, "Yes, now!" I smile slightly, shoving my already cold hands into my jacket.

When I get into the driver's seat, my heart starts pounding. The door closes and all I can smell is that new car smell. No curry. Only freshness. An uncontrollable squeal races past my lips. Eric smirks.

It is easy to adjust the seat. I literally glide into position. Eric helps me with the keys and the engine starts with a soft purr. I smile widely, unable to take my hands away from the leather-covered wheel.

I hear Violet sigh loudly in the back which is a sign that I should probably start driving. We all buckle up and I move the car out of the parking lot. It feels like we're floating. There are no bumps in the road. This car is a miracle.

"Pull over here," Eric says after a few blocks, pointing towards a mall. I wonder how he feels not being in control. I grin, parking up the car into the family parking slot. I kind of have to... the car is enormous. And pretty high as well. I hope nobody takes this the wrong way.

I kill the engine, turning to look over my shoulder when Violet bounces in her seat. She looks from me to her father before opening the door and getting out. I raise my eyebrows at her enthusiasm, "Why's she so jittery?"

Eric winks at me before opening his own door, "I promised to buy her a game."

"So you're giving everyone surprises today," I smirk, playfully nudging him. He chuckles and shakes his head.

"I'm full of surprises."

"Thank you..." I say again, "for the car, I mean," I look down at my lap, chewing on my lip, "It's... too much-"

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's amazing!" a built-in sat-nav catches my eye and I spend several seconds drooling at it. Eric runs a hand up and down his knee, looking like he wants to say something, but he never does, "I just... it's a car... I don't feel like I deserve a car."

He raises one eyebrow before glancing out of the window to watch Violet kick another car's tire, "You deserve it, okay?"

I nod because his look is menacing. Is he pressuring me into stopping with the modesty? It's working.

SHSHSHSHSH

It's a Sunday, so the mall is deserted. There are a few people walking around, buying wrapping paper and Christmas ornaments. When we walk past an ice-cream stand, Violet stops me.

"You want ice-cream?" I ask, smiling as she grabs my wrist.

The lady with the cones looks bored, typing something on her phone. She's a teenager. I see that now. The last thing she wants is to serve people ice-cream on a Sunday.

Eric takes out his chunky wallet, clearing his throat, "I'll get it."

I look around, noticing that the majority of the stores are clothes based. There is glass separating us from the stores, but we have a massive hallway to walk down and there are benches in the middle. None of which are occupied because of the lack of people.

"Three scoops, all chocolate," she clarifies, folding her arms. I allow my hand to hover around her shoulder before Eric leads her closer to the stand. I take a seat on one of the benches and it seems like the perfect time to take out my phone.

I switch it on, watching the small screen come to life.

3 new messages.

And one voicemail. It's from Christina.

I don't bother reading the messages because they were sent before the voicemail. I turn it on and listen.

"Um, hi. Yeah, hey," her voice is hesitant at first. She continues, "So I'm guessing you're not coming back because... you took all your stuff... well, you've left your phone charger. I doubt you'll need it though. Your boyfriend will probably buy you a new phone."

I roll my eyes slightly, leaning back on the bench.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," she sighs heavily, "But I feel like a bitch apologizing via voicemail so... call me back, okay? I'm really sorry."

I take the phone off my ear to check my battery. 30%. I put it back to my ear. There is a beep and then my phone goes silent.

Eric walks up to me first, reluctant to smile. He slides his wallet into his coat, nodding towards me, "Who was it?"

"It's just a voicemail," I shrug it off, smiling when Violet takes his hand. He reads me like a book and then decides to change the subject.

"Come on, let's go," he says. I get up, watching Violet battle with three massive scoops of ice cream, each of which are bigger than her mouth. She dawdles behind us, too busy eating. So me and Eric slow down the pace, "I'm buying you a coat."

"No, you're not," I force a smile, Christina's words echoing in my head.

"You nearly froze to death in the one you are wearing-"

"You don't need to buy me a coat, Eric," I shoot him a look which I immediately regret. He gives me a cold glare, jaw clenching. If Violet wasn't here, I would fear for my life.

I look down, blowing some loose strands of hair out of my face.

He sighs next to me, his footsteps becoming more urgent, "I have your life in my hands, remember that."

It strikes me hard. I nearly stop, but remember that Violet is walking behind me, "Is that a threat?"

"It's a warning," he grumbles, walking forward. I breathe out like a dragon. And it feels ridiculous that I have just flipped a switch inside me and became so angry. The man just gave me a car... and I'm angry. It makes me feel sightly guilty. Who does he think he is?

Seriously, who does he think he is? Thinking I depend on him? Which I kind of do... but that's not the point. It's ridiculous. Mixed emotions will be the end of me.

"Unbelievable," I breathe out. He hears it with his rabbit ears, of course. Last words are something he must have. In this case, he simply grunts.

SHSHSHSHSH

Somehow, I let myself walk into a coat section of a clothes store. Eric breathes behind me, getting on my nerves. When Violet skips away into the gaming section, I turn around to face him. I am about to speak but he beats me to it.

"Stop doing that."

Are you kidding me?

"Stop doing what?" Boldly, I fold my arms, no longer afraid to look up at him.

He juts his chin out like Violet before grabbing my forearm, "I don't like you misbehaving like that."

"Misbehaving? By not letting you buy me things?"

"Not things. Something you need."

"I can take care of it."

He squeezes my arm and I jerk away, "Choose something please."

I smile slightly, "What if I don't?"

He smiles back, more amused than angry.

 **Thoughts?**


	39. The Second Time

We come back at around dinnertime.

I storm into the apartment, as furious as an enraged bull. Why you ask? I turn to look over my shoulder, watching as Eric struggles to pull his bags through the door frame.

Shaking my head in expiration, I make my way to the guest bedroom I occupy at the moment. After I shut the door the most reasonable thing to do is sit down on the edge of the bed.

I am not interested in what he has to say. He has spent at least a grand today when he was only supposed to be buying Violet a game. And fuck knows how expensive that car was. I run a hand through my hair.

I did land my eyes on a very warm and good looking coat. It's black and simple, but also enriched with some weird feathers from Thailand. It makes it super warm. I have tried it on in the store as quickly as possible. Eric noticed and bought it. I flipped out. He laughed it off.

What I didn't realize is that the coat was five hundred dollars. Once I found out, I flipped out even more.

There is a knock on the door before he comes in. As if I had a choice whether to let him in or not. He shuts it behind him, unzipping his coat and smiling at me, "What's the matter?"

"You have to stop buying me... stuff," that's what it is: Stuff. Stuff I don't need. Luxury I can't afford.

"Why?" he is bold to ask.

"Because it's too much!" I stand back up, running both hands through my hair, "It's just too much."

"Is now a bad time to tell you I got you an iPhone?"

I stop breathing and look up at his serious face. He starts rocking on the balls of his feet, slowly taking off his winter coat. I almost laugh because at first I think he is joking. But why would he be joking? He bought me a car.

All I can do is gape at him. And when he smiles, I find my voice, "Are you... you are literally insane."

"Why is this a big deal?" he raises an eyebrow, stepping closer to me, "I want to buy my girlfriend nice things. Sue me."

"Girlfriend?" it feels weird to hear him say it. He's never said it before. I suppose I am his girlfriend. We had sex and everything.

He smiles slightly, taking my hand when he is close enough, "Stop stressing out. Girls are supposed to like presents."

I chuckle weakly, looking down, "I promise I like them... I just feel a bit guilty."

"Don't," he leans down to peck my lips, our cold noses touching, "Don't feel guilty."

SHSHSHSHSH

Apparently, Eric is some sort of tech genius. He sets up the iPhone 7 he bought for me in minutes. I stare at it in awe as he hands it to me after syncing all the contacts from my old phone. Violet sits between us on the couch, more interested with my new toy than her new toy.

"When will I get a phone?" she asks, reaching across to tap at the screen. I let her.

"Whenever you want-"

"When you're fifteen," I correct, receiving a questionable glance from her father and a death glare from herself.

She rolls her eyes dramatically before leaning against Eric's chest. He wraps his arm around her.

I sneak a glance into my unread messages, not quite comfortable with a screen this big. New message from Tobias. My heart almost skips a beat. It was Christina who was spamming me. And now I have a message from Tobias. What could he possibly have to say?

I lean backwards slightly, blocking the screen from a giggling Violet and a smug Eric. They have engaged in a conversation about today's dinner.

I open the message and read. It was sent thirty minutes ago:

 _I have to see you. I know you want space, but your friends are worried._

All I can do is roll my eyes. My friends are worried. What is he going to do? Come here?

SHSHSHSHSH

Once Violet is in bed, Eric takes me to his room. I didn't realize he had a lock on his door until he clicked it.

He shoots me a smirk through the darkness and then turns on a lamp by the bed. The room becomes illuminated in one corner. Enough for us to see each other and enough to see where we are going. He pulls me closer, planting a wet kiss on my neck.

"Do you think this is a good idea?" I ask.

"What?"

His hands stroke up and down my back, "I need to be in my room in the morning."

He smiles, pecking my lips, "I'll take care of it."

Somehow, that is all the reassurance I need. I smile, biting my lip, "When will we tell her?"

Eric sighs, walking closer to the bed, "Soon."

I sink into the mattress, watching Eric hover above me. He stays standing near my legs, his hands working at his belt slowly. It's all very quiet except from his heavy breathing and the sound of metal clashing together.

"Take it off," he whispers, nodding towards my shirt. I smile in excitement, everything new to us. I mean, we had our first time last night but I don't think it counts. It was over too soon. And I saw nothing. And he saw nothing.

I follow his command and pull my shirt over my head, arching my back to take it off. It flings to the foot of the bed and I am left with a simple black bra. Eric breathes in deeply, allowing his pants to fall down near his feet. When he kicks them off, he nuzzles himself between my legs, taking in the view before him.

A nervous giggle erupts in my chest when he hooks his long fingers under the waistline of my jeans. He pops the button through the hoop and slides the material down my legs. He crashes his lips against mine once both our pants are on the floor. I take a fistful of his shirt at the back, tugging until he gets the hint and discards it.

Our skin sticks together, heating up the whole room. When I feel his hand slide around my thigh, our kiss breaks. I look into his eyes, surprised at how natural this seems to be for him.

"You have the softest skin," he whispers, fingers dancing around the dips and curves of my rib cage. I laugh when it starts to tickle. He smiles at me.

"Don't do that," I say, reaching behind my back before he can. The bra strap snaps in my hand and I arch my back for him to tug it off me. I watch as he licks his lips, kissing the middle of my chest before anything else.

I tangle one hand in his hair, trying to guide him back to my lips. He refuses, instead making his way down my body while his hands grip at my breasts. His hot breath stops at my bellybutton. I look down to meet his hungry eyes, asking for permission. When I tilt my head back, he wastes no time with my panties. I don't even feel them sliding down my legs because the warmth of his mouth on me overpowers everything.

I gasp, buckling my hips against his face. He hums softly, guiding my legs to wrap around his neck. I feel him leaning down on the floor, bringing me to the edge of the bed. When I open my eyes, the ceiling is yellow above me from the light. I see his shadow in my peripheral vision, making subtle movements.

His tongue slips between my folds, beckoning a moan from me. I keep it quiet, considering the silent atmosphere we are in.

Several minutes in, my hips begin to tremble, and abruptly he pulls away. I am breathless, looking up as he straightens himself, a hand rubbing over his length, "Eric," I manage, watching as he wraps a rubber around his member. The light behind him highlights all the dark places on his skin. His tattoos stand out more than ever.

"Shh, keep it quiet," he whispers, positioning himself near my entrance. I so desperately want to wrap my arms around him, but he stays upright, watching over me in fascination. To the point when I almost start feeling self-conscious.

I hiss when he enters me, holding nothing back. He grips my hips, starting to move inside me at the pace he loves most. I bite my lip to stop myself from groaning. I wonder if we will ever have a time to be as loud as we want.

"Oh, fuck," he mumbles, head rolling back. I moan when he slams into me, the sound of our moist skin sending shivers down my spine.

My stomach starts to flutter, a wave of pleasure pulsing down my body. I open my mouth when he covers it with his hand, any sound I make muffled.

"Fuck, Tris," he whispers, moving down to press his body against mine. I wrap my arms around him finally, not willing to let him go. He grunts, pushing deeper and deeper until his body trembles above me. He bites down on my ear, groaning and gasping as he starts to slow down.

I run my hands up his back, feeling the muscles tense under my touch. He releases a final whimper, jerking harder inside of me. I gasp, eyes closing for the last time today.

 **Review :)**


	40. The Ghost of Christmas Past

**Hi, guys! I'm alive.**

 **I am on my Christmas break now for 6 whole weeks, so expect frequent updates. Sorry for the long wait, I was rounding up all my university work, ready for hand-in. And now that it's all over, I am back! And I will be working on this fanfic whenever possible!**

 **I am going away for two days, so don't expect an update right this moment. But after those two days, I will be updating again I promise :)**

"So do you like... live here now?" Violet asks at breakfast, raising her eyebrows judgmentally.

I pull my turtleneck higher up, conscious of a few hickeys that were marked on me last night. Doing my best to be nonchalant, I wave my arms around, "I mean... technically yes-"

"But do you pay the rent?" Violet presses. She is extra cold today.

"No... I work here," I smile slightly, tucking my legs beneath me on the chair. My arms are folded, watching her eat a bowl of cereal. She woke up at seven as usual... and things are going smoothly. Except for her interrogation session.

"No offense," she eats a spoonful, "But you could get your own place."

I scratch the back of my head, wondering what kind of stuff she has been dreaming of. Where is all this coming from?

"I'll bear that in mind," is my reply. Too early for comebacks. Too lazy for an argument.

Violet nods to herself, satisfied that she got to have the last word. I smile slightly, wondering how I will be around her 24/7 when the Christmas holidays start in five days.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

 _Eric's POV_

I put on a suit after an intense training session. Once I'm back in my office, the phone rings. I saunter over, already in a foul mood. Tris doesn't have the office phone number, so whoever is calling is not worth my time.

"Eric speaking," I say into the speaker, straightening my tie with one hand. The receptionist clears her voice, smiling from the other line.

"I don't mean to disturb, sir, but Susan Walter is here demanding to see you to speak of an important matter," she barely breathes when she speaks to me. It's kind of annoying. Never liked the receptionists here.

I run a hand down my face, dreading the idea of letting her in. But Susan still works here. And it would be unprofessional to send her away especially when her issues could relate to work. Although I doubt they relate to anything useful.

"Send her in," I hang up, contemplating getting a secretary.

She appears in my doorway a couple of minutes later, her hair loose around her shoulders, red lipstick coating her lips, and wearing the tightest red dress. I look away, walking over to my desk to sit down.

"What did you want to discuss?"

I grab a pen and take out a thick sheet of paper while her clicking heels get louder and louder until they stop when she perches herself on the edge of my desk. I sigh, leaning back. Hopefully this will be over soon. Or I could send in the security.

"Hello, Eric," she moans, leaning over with her blue eyes, "We haven't talked in a while... I wanted to see how you were doing."

"In that dress?"

Her repulsive giggle fills the room, forcing me to lean back in the big chair.

"You're not complaining are you?" her hands slither down one of her thighs. I sigh again, scratching the edge of my eyebrow.

"What do you want, Susan?"

Her smirk disappears and a rage takes over her face, making her ugly.

When I don't apologize for my blunt response, she gets up off the table and starts pacing the room, making sure to draw attention to her body.

"We need to talk," she says. I roll my eyes, standing up as well.

"I'm waiting-"

"You don't miss me at all?!" she suddenly bursts, even taking me aback slightly. I quickly recover, pulling at the tie around my neck.

I don't have to say anything. Besides, she wouldn't let me. Not in a million years.

"I invested so much in this relationship and what do I get?!" she throws her arms out, looking around for an answer, "A broken heart! Why would you do that to me, Eric?! Why would you chose that..." her eyes scatter in different directions, apparently no word harsh enough to pick from her vocabulary.

"Stop," I run a hand through my hair, coming up to her, "There was never a relationship, there was nothing to invest in, and no amount of red-velvet cupcakes could ever change that," I notice her bag near the door, a bakery box sticking out of it. I gesture to it, surprising myself with calmness. And she just shrieks in my face.

"I want that bitch gone!"

"Alright, calm down now," I walk over to the door, knowing that she will follow and hold it open. She screams again, picking up her cupcakes and throwing the box at my chest. I block her strike with my wrist, feeling nothing as she walks out.

"I'll take care of her myself then!" she turns, eyes wild, "Never expect a man to take a situation into his own hands! Never!"

I furrow my eyebrows as she storms away, wondering what the hell just happened. And who was she talking to?

 **Review :)**


	41. The Bitch Returns

**Welcome back! I'm jumping straight in with the story :)**

I shrug on my new coat and make my way down to the lobby.

It looked cold from up in the apartment, so I grabbed my hat as well. When I approach the doors to outside, I slide it onto my head, making sure to cover my ears. Violet has been in school for about an hour now. When I dropped her off, I went straight back to Eric's place for a change of clothes. Sounds weird... but I couldn't just wear a skirt and heels in front of his daughter. She would get suspicious. Especially because I never really wear those kind of clothes.

Satisfied with my racy look, I zip the coat up to my chin, only revealing a pair of bare ankles. The heels click as I walk out, sound softening as they sink into the snow. I stop in my tracks when a figure appears in my peripheral vision. I turn slightly and jump back, being met by Susan's piercing blue eyes.

"God," I whisper to myself, hands warming up in the coat pockets.

She smiles forcefully at me, snowflakes half-melted in her hair. It's blonde when its dry. But right now it looks muddy from all the moisture. Her coat is too light for this weather and by the way it's undone, I see a striking red dress. What the hell?

"I'm sorry, did I startle you?" she asks, and it sounds like rehearsed lines. I take a note of mud on her shoes and smeared lipstick on her face.

"A little, yeah," I answer, feeling more frightened than angry. Why would she think it is a good idea to come here of all the places in the world? And what is with the outfit? Is she drunk?

Her hands tremble in the cold; she squeezes them into blueish fists, "How inconvenient for you!"

I walk toward my car, pressing the 'unlock' button in my pocket. She follows behind me, which makes me keep an eye on her. When our eyes meet again, I open my door.

"Is that your car?" she whines, tucking her bottom lip under a row of teeth, "He bought me a car as well, don't think you are special."

I gape at her, my body stopping me from crawling inside. First of all, what he buys me is none of her business. Second of all, he bought her a car? That is hard to believe. He couldn't have... but it's not like he could not afford it... so anything is possible.

"I have to go," I say, all the words dying on my tongue. I could come back with something smarter, but she drains the energy from me like a black hole. I slam the door shut behind me and drive away, watching her folding her arms in the rear view mirror.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Eric is sat in his big chair, looking exhausted until he smiles up at me. I shut the door behind me, feeling dirty in the clothes I picked out. This isn't right. Something about the start of today is not right. I saw Susan and she said some odd things. It shouldn't bother me that Eric might have bought her a car but it does because it takes away that feeling of being special. I know I should not be so jealous... it is just what Susan makes me feel.

"I'm so glad you came," Eric purrs, sauntering over to me. We touch in the middle of the room, and my hands against his chest slow him down from leaning in for a kiss. He kisses me anyway. And then he frowns. I speak before he can ask.

"I saw Susan," our eyes lock. He doesn't seem surprised.

"In reception?"

"Your parking lot," I confirm, watching a spark igniting in his eyes. He puts it out quickly.

"Did she do something stupid?"

"No," I force a smile, feeling his reassuring hand circling around my lower back, "She said... some odd things."

"Like what?"

I chuckle nervously, looking down. Should I mention this at all? Maybe I'm overreacting.

Eric leads me over to the seating area and pulls me into his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling his heartbeat hammering against my rib cage. Or maybe it's my heart. It's hard to tell.

He kisses my cheek, nose nuzzling below my ear. He unzips my coat and I allow it to fall off my shoulders and then onto the floor. My stomach tenses which seems to attract his hand to it.

"What did she say, babe?" he tried to hold me closer, pulling until there is no space left between us.

I chuckle softly, rolling my eyes, "She was just a bit... loud and..." I glance up to see his reaction. His face is neutral except from a clench at the top of his jaw, "She said you bought her a car..." I shrug one shoulder to appear nonchalant. My face flushes. Have a crossed a line?

I feel him move underneath me, but he somehow brings me closer, "I've only ever bought one person a car, and that's you."

A tinge of red colors my cheeks. I look down until my chin touches my collarbone. So she lied then? And I believed her?

"Tris," he taps my chin, making me look up. The corners of his eyes crinkle, "I don't crap money like that."

I release a weak laugh, "Yeah, I know-"

"Don't listen to what she says, okay?" I nod, and he captures my chin with his fingers, "You and Violet are my priority."

Our lips meet for a brief second. Our chins brush against one another as he firmly grabs my hips. I giggle against his skin, gasping once he flips us over.

 **Review :)**


	42. The Flashes

**Can you guys believe it's nearly Christmas?!**

 **Here is an early present...**

His hands find my thighs, a groan escaping his mouth. There is no struggle in getting me up against his body. He holds me tightly, my legs wrapping around his torso as he walks up to his desk. Our mouths are attached until he lands me on the corner of the table. I gasp loudly, skirt riding up.

"Hey, stop, somebody might come in," I whimper, our noses bumping together.

There is silence around us except for his heavy breathing. When our eyes meet, he gives me a curious look. His bottom lip glistens, hot breath hitting my face.

"I locked the door," he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. I brave moving my legs, and he slithers one hand higher up my thigh, making me shudder, "Wearing that skirt is the best decision you've made today."

I bite my lip, feeling my underwear starting to get pulled down.

"Eric-"

"Shh," he frowns in concentration, stuffing my panties into his trouser pocket. I watch him with wide eyes, wanting most of all to close my legs- but his body is in the way. His eyes lock on mine when I lay back on my elbows. Something pokes into my back and I have to shove it out of the way quickly. Eric gives me a small smirk that lasts for a split second.

His hands reach his belt, unbuckling it at an extra slow pace. I almost start whining when he releases the leather from the loops around his waistline. He makes a hoop with the belt, metals clacking against one another. I raise both eyebrows, closing my eyes when he decides to graze my cheek with the leather.

"Tell me, should I take it easy on you?"

My mouth goes dry and all I can manage is a nod. What kind of BDSM shit is this? Has he been taking it easy on me all this time? Or is this a joke?

I lean back on the table completely, resting my hands at the top of my chest. I undo a button of my blouse, taking him by what can only be described as surprise. He grabs one of my hands, ringing it closer to his mouth and kissing the palm.

I hear a little commotion on the floor below. There is a small bang and the ringing of a phone. Eric inhales deeply, ripping off his black blazer, "I want a new office."

His tight, white shirt comes into view. I see his black chest through it, and when he rolls up his sleeves, more ink is visible on his arms. I take a moment to arch my back, knowing he won't give me much time to myself after he gets going. Once he sees me move, my hips are pressed firmly against his.

His eyes burn into mine as he undoes the fly on his pants. He sighs in content, taking out his stiff member. I can do nothing but watch, wondering when he will finally take me.

"Do you have a condom?" I blurt out, desperate to do something, say something. He simply looks at me, digging up a foil package from his trouser pocket that is not filled with my underwear.

I sit up on the desk, too tempted by his lips. They crash against mine before I even have a chance to take a breath. He slides into me at the perfect moment. I whimper when his massive hands firmly grip my back to refrain me from falling back down.

"Ah," I reach up for his shoulders when he starts thrusting, tightening my legs around his torso. Our bodies press together, all our useless clothes in the way of true pleasure. I groan quietly, starting to unbutton his white shirt. He doesn't stop me. So I continue until his whole body is there right in front of me. I skim my hands across his six pack, feeling how tense his muscles can get. He shivers under my touch. I lean in and kiss his chest until my moans are impossible to hold back.

Eric bites down on my neck, his thrusting becoming more desperate. I start to wonder whether he has done this before to Susan. And immediately regret it. I hide my face in his shoulder, listening to the desk beneath me creak.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

We lay curled up on the sofa of his office, snow flakes falling at a steady pace outside the window. The room is white. There is little sunshine, but all light seems to be coming from the snow.

I feel Eric's hand running up and down the bare leg I have draped over his two. Every couple of minutes he kisses my forehead, and when his hand is stationary I think that he has fallen asleep. When I look up, he is smiling down at me.

The office phone has rang two times in the past hour, and Eric has not been bothered to answer it, "Don't take any ideas from me. I'm a bad influence," he said.

I think of Susan again and get angry for doing so. I don't even know what it is that's bothering me. If it's the fact that they dated, I am pretty screwed. None of that can be changed. I am just feeling a little uneasy after our brief encounter.

"I need to ask you something," Eric grumbles, lifting up my chin so that I look at him. I smile because he is smiling.

"What is it?"

He sighs before speaking, "I have to go to Paris for a few days. Take care of some business there," he glances at my lips, "Violet is coming obviously. I wanted to know if you would like to come too..." he finishes with a tug between his brows. I laugh, shrugging one shoulder.

He gives me a serious look. And that's when I start freaking out.

"Oh, my God, are you serious?"

He nods, looking slightly confused, "It's only a few days... we're coming back on the 24th just before Christmas."

I widen my eyes, "So when are you actually going?"

"Tomorrow," he clarifies, knocking all air out of my lungs. Wow, talk about short notice.

"Tomorrow?!" it makes me sit up on my elbow, "That's so soon."

Eric smiles slightly, not phased at all, "It's for me to take care of a few things there. You can go and see the city with Violet. Leave me to do the boring stuff."

This is so overwhelming. I've never been abroad, let alone Paris. Like real Paris. Like in France. And taking care of Violet in a foreign city? I feel like he isn't giving me much time to consider my options.

"But wait, what if there are no tickets left? It's holiday season-"

"I already bought the tickets," he answers, planting a kiss on my shoulder, "But if you decide not to come, it's not a big deal."

Oh yeah, because he is a millionaire who would not be bothered by a wasted plane ticket. Still, I feel like it would be rude not to accept. Besides, I've never been anywhere before, it would be nice to do something. Who knows how many opportunities I will get?

"I'm going to come with you," I say, a smile springing onto his face.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

The next day when I go down to my car, snow has stopped falling. It's finally becoming peaceful in the city. The frost is still in the air but the blizzard has stopped.

I grab my car keys and press the button to unlock when a figure catches my eye. A figure next to my car. A figure that looks like Susan. I start to feel slightly annoyed when I imagine what must be going on in her head. Is she going to be here every morning now? Is she going to harass me? Is she capable of that?

My heart skips a beat when she lifts up what looks like a crowbar above her head. In a split second, I hear the car alarm go off, unsure of what has actually happened. It takes me a couple of seconds to approach her as the sickening sound of breaking glass showers the ground below. I gape at her, noticing how she is still wearing the dress from yesterday.

"Wha-"

I press the buttons on my car keys, clueless as to how to turn the alarm off. When I am close enough, I see the smashes front window and the dented passenger's seat door.

"What are you doing?!" I yell, dropping my bag to try and stop her from doing any more damage. Her wild eyes notice me and she forgets about the car. She lifts up the weapon again. I don't have time to block my face. The cold metal whacks me in the cheekbone, sending me crashing down onto the snow.

I gasp, pain too great to feel all at once.

My vision blurs, but I am certain of the blood on the snow. It's not a hallucination.

My senses flicker back on like faulty light bulbs and I raise my hands to protect myself from any more blows. But they never come. All I hear is her panting as she turns to run away.

 **Drama :O Review and tell me whether or not you want Susan dead. Joking, joking, I could never kill off a character ;) Or...**


	43. The Police

_Eric's POV_

I almost break through the front door of my apartment. Tris' voice echoes in my head: _She was here._

I can't forget her sobs though the phone. Once I picked up, I knew something was wrong. Her voice was weak. And her words were slurred.

The light in the corridor is on; I don't bother to take off my shoes. I rush through the apartment, quickly approaching the bathroom where the movement is.

She is perched on the edge of the tub, her head too heavy to hold up, a bloody mop clenches in her hand. My heart starts throbbing when she twitches and I drop to my knees in the hopes of seeing what damage was done to her face.

Tris opens her eyes, looking almost confused to see me. I brush some hair out of her face, furrowing my eyebrows when she winces. I tuck the strand of hair behind her ear, widening my eyes.

"Jesus Christ," I whisper, resting one hand on her hip. There is a clear bruise on her cheek, and it's turning black. Cracked skin seeps out some blood, a tinge of blue coming up to her eye. As for her actual eye, it's normal. The thing that concerns me most is how she sways, "Can you see straight?"

I can tell that she wants to nod instead of speaking, but speaking would cause less damage, "Yes."

"Does your head hurt?"

"Yes," a single tear streams down her cheek as she scrunches up her face.

"I'm taking you to the emergency room-"

"No!" she grabs my arm and regrets it immediately. Her eyes shut for a good ten seconds while she looks like she is trying to get rid of a bad memory, "It's just a bruise."

"You said your head hurts," I growl, getting up to my feet and taking the mop away from her, starting to rinse it in the stained sink.

"That's because your crazy ex girlfriend whacked me on the face with a crowbar," there is venom in her voice and I don't blame her. I can't. I squeeze the mop dry before pressing it against her cheek, watching her eyelids fluttering.

"You need to rest," I sigh, "I'll take care of Violet later."

"I guess I'm not going to Paris after all," she mumbles, flinching when my thumb brushes underneath her eye. I didn't even think about that. I was so busy with everything else. Our eyes meet and I give her a sympathetic look, which she denies.

"Then Violet and I are not going either-"

"Don't do that," she sighs, "You have a job. You were planning on going-"

"It's just a job," I reply, dabbing her face as gently as possible. She stops talking and purses her lips, whimpering when a sneaky cut gets caught between her teeth. She probably didn't notice it before, "I'll take care of this. Just go and rest."

She furrows her eyebrows, unsure about what I might be talking about. I decide not to elaborate.

SHSHSHSHSH

I close the door to my bedroom where I have left Tris to sleep. She took some painkillers which seem to be working well so far. I left a wet cloth on her forehead; she closed her eyes then.

The only thing left to do before I have to pick up Violet from school is get Susan sorted out. I tried to call her and she didn't answer. The only other thing I can do is visit her. I don't hesitate calling the police. I have filed a report and due to my status in the city, they are prepared to do whatever is necessary to keep me satisfied with their service. And the only thing that will make me satisfied is keeping Susan as far away from my family as possible.

I climb into my car and drive to her house, almost speeding. I'm still wearing the suit from work and the white cuffs on my wrists are sprinkled with Tris' blood. It startles me when I first notice. But after a while, I get over it and focus on the task ahead.

Apparently, there is no need for me to be buzzed in as the lobby door is already open. I take two steps at a time, all the way to the fifth floor. All the way to her apartment.

Silence follows after I pound at her door. But when I try to open it, it does.

Her apartment looks as it always has. A white rug at the entrance, trailing all the way down the hallway and into the living room. A variety of mirrors covers most of the wall. A glass chandelier hangs low in the centre of the hallway. This place has always been too white and sparkly for my taste.

She appears like a ghost in the doorway of her kitchen. Her smile is twisted. Her hair is wet. She is wearing a snow white robe, tied tightly at the waist. Her hands writhe near her chest as she looks over me.

"I didn't expect to see you," her smile widens and when I don't return it, she laughs, "Well, don't just stand there."

Something snaps inside me and I cross the distance between us, only seeing Tris' bruised face.

Susan whimpers and plasters herself against the wall behind her. I don't attempt to touch her.

"Do you fucking realise what you've done?" my voice comes out louder than expected. And then I make it louder, "You could have given her brain damage!"

She frowns at me and slouches her shoulders when she realizes I am not after hitting her. As if that is in some way a disappointment.

"She got what she deserved."

"I can't believe you're saying this," I breathe, backing away to stop myself from losing control, "You stay away from her."

Her blue eyes widen with rage. But the corners of her mouth twitch upwards, "I'm not going to have her ruin a good thing between us."

"There is no us!" My heart clenches as I send one of my fists against the wall behind her. She shrieks with surprise and covers it up with laughter straight away. I have never seen her like this before. Did I change her like this? Or was it the fantasy she had in her head? "Stay away from her," I repeat.

She shakes her head in the most menacing way. What she doesn't know is that the police are on their way. And she will never have to work for me again.


	44. The Love

**Happy New Year, guys! I hope it lives up to be happy, successful and most of all peaceful.**

My whole face is sore when I open my eyes. I notice that my lips are parted and extremely dry, so I try and shut my mouth. When I do so, my jaw clenches and a wince escapes my mouth.

A small hand grabs my shoulder, and for a second I'm startled. Then I notice Violet hovering over me, eyes wide with new sights. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, pointing behind me. I turn my head and notice a glass of water on the nightstand.

"Violet," a deep voice scolds near the door. I turn again and see him pulling her away, "I told you not to come in here."

The girl groans and shoves his hands away, running out of the door without further help. Eric stands still for a long moment and I watch his back rising and falling. He got changed into a white shirt and a pair of jeans.

I reach for the water Violet pointed out and take a sip, wincing as my jaw moves around the cup's shape, "I should have given you a straw," he speaks from afar. I ignore him and down my drink, putting down the glass with a sigh.

"It's fine," I whisper, not being able to find my voice even after I clear my throat. Eric comes over to me, sitting down on the edge of the bed. I see a poignant look in his eyes briefly.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the doctor?"

I shake my head, sighing in relief when no pain comes from the movement. It's just my jaw and one side of my face now. But that can be fixed with some cream.

"I cancelled the trip," he says quietly, glancing down at my lap which has been covered with a blanket. Before I can protest, he speaks again, "It's alright. I'll go another time-"

"You can't put things off like that for me," I warn, struggling to furrow my eyebrows.

"Yes, I can," he frowns, "And I will. I'm going next week. The deal was fairly easy to negotiate."

Something clamps down on my heart, and my face flushes. This is probably my fault. I should have never approached Susan. That would have saved my face. Not my car, but my face definitely.

"Your car is in repair," Eric seems to read my mind, "Meanwhile, I got you another one. It's exactly the same. But it's for rent."

Shame some things cannot be rented.

"You didn't have to do that," I reach for his hand which seems to warm up in my grasp. He stays silent for a while, his thumb stroking my palm.

He looks at me, but not at me. His eyes scan over the damage on my face, and I notice gears grinding in his brain, trying to figure out the next steps. It's probably just a bruise. It's not that serious. But something tells me he will take ridiculous care of me.

"Violet knows," he blurts out, eyes timid. I tilt my head to the side, wondering what the hell he is talking about. And then I remember that we shared a secret. But now Violet knows. She knows. Wait...

"Is... was she angry? Surprised?"

Eric shakes his head, giving me a small smile, "She was furious."

I bite my bottom lip, somehow not surprised. His big chest falls. She was here earlier. And she looked fine. Maybe my injuries changed her mind?

"I don't know how she'll react," he confesses, leaning in to kiss my forehead. He smells of fresh aftershave, "But there is no point wondering. Get some rest. I'll deal with her."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

I guess I fell asleep... because I wake up again when it's dark outside. There are delicious smells coming from the kitchen. The TV is on in the living room. It's warm. It's very warm.

I hear voices. I think I hear a female voice. I hold my breath until I start to choke. It's definitely a female voice. Susan? No. Surely not.

The door to the bedroom opens and I almost get whiplash. Christina bounces towards me, her arms parted for a hug. I take a deep breath and then she is around me. Squeezing whatever energy I have out of my body. She smells like her usual self, which for some odd reason comforts me.

"Oh my God, Tris, I can't believe this happened to you!"

I tilt my head to the side when some of her hair brushes against my cheek. She pulls away quickly, beautiful brown eyes widening.

"Shit, sorry!" she apologises, taking a smart step towards the right direction by sitting at the edge of the bed. She wears an oversized sweater, and as if to mock me, some French words are embroidered at the front.

She takes a couple of breaths before standing up, looking accused, "I.. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Eric told me and I came as soon as possible."

It comforts me that she looked past our argument to try and mend this friendship. What comforts me the most is the fact that Tobias is nowhere to be seen. He would have probably visited me after hearing the news. But this must mean nobody told him.

I see Eric in the doorway, searching my eyes to see if I am wounded by his decision to invite Christina. I smile slightly to put his nerves at ease. He leaves in silence as Christina begins to rant about how bad of a friend she is. I let her.


	45. The End Kind Of

**This will be the final chapter guys. I'd like to thank you for your support of this fanfic and I'd like to especially thank It'sHardIKnow for the whole idea. Bet you didn't think it would turn into a long ass story, did you?**

 **Before you freak out, just know that I promised you a sequel. And it will be going up later on, because how can we all live without these characters?**

 **Enjoy :)**

The next morning, I wake to a snoring Eric by my side. I've never heard him snore before, which is weird. But then I remember that he is a human. Even though sometimes he does not act like one. Or look like one.

His chest rises up and down steadily. One of his arms is tucked behind his head. I notice that he is wearing what he was yesterday. And he is on top of the blanket. Did he crash here last night?

Memories of Christina come flooding back. She came here. I think we made up, and it's like nothing ever happened between us. A small smile covers my face. If Christina was here, then Eric's state does not surprise me. She would tire anyone out with that mouth of hers.

I remember my injury and lift my hand up to my face. The skin on my cheek is kind of tough... a bit like sandpaper. And the skin around that part is soft. Sensitive. I sigh, wondering what I look like now. Probably not good. But I don't care. What's done is done. I'll just avoid mirrors for a while.

I sit up slowly, glancing out of the window only to see a clear sky. The apartment is oddly silent. Especially now that the sun is up. If the sun is up, someone else should be up. And it's too silent. I glance at the digital clock on the nightstand to realize it reads 10:27am.

Then I turn my head to the door. And see that it is slightly open.

Eric grunts next to me suddenly, his whole body shifting as his lungs inhale most of the oxygen in the room. I smile, reaching out to take his hand. He squeezes my fingers, at last opening up his eyes.

"Morning," I mumble, watching as his pupils shrink.

He looks around the room in a daze before doing a sporty sit up, rubbing his eyes, "Shit, I fell asleep."

I slip out of bed before he can attack me with his mouth. As pleasant as making out sounds right now, I have too much to do. And too much to figure out. My trousers were taken off previously so I tip toe to Eric's wardrobe, grabbing a pair of sweatpants he has, tying it tightly around my waist so they don't fall down. I hear his chuckle behind me.

"When did Christina leave yesterday?" I ask, preoccupied with tucking my shirt into the sweatpants.

His eyes scan the room again and for a moment he gives me a look of confusion, "Late."

"Did you have to make her leave?" I joke, smirking.

"Yes, how did you know?"

I release a laugh and shake my head, "Come on, I'm hungry."

We leave the room at the same time and just like in a horror movie, we give each other suspicious looks as the light decides to dull in the hallway. My first thought is: 'Oh, Violet is pranking us. Not so scary'.

But when we reach the living room, she is sat right there on the couch, looking unimpressed with something on TV. I sigh in what feels like relief when I see her. Everything looks normal. I don't know how Eric said what he did yesterday, but it's clearly a good sign that she is not freaking out, right? Or is it scarier because she is calm?

I approach her carefully before Eric can pull me back. His hand skims my wrist. I wiggle away and join her on the couch, "What are we having for breakfast?"

Violet frowns at me and crosses her arms, "You tell me."

I glance at Eric before smiling slightly, "Okay," I take a second to think, "How about pancakes?"

She scoffs and I am not surprised. I turn back to Eric, watching him scratch the back of his head awkwardly. I start struggling to find words but Violet speaks before I can, putting me at ease.

"Pancakes suck. And you can't cook," she states, glaring at the TV screen in front of her.

"Okay, Violet," Eric sighs, walking into the room, "What did I tell you about the way you talk to-"

He barely finishes his sentence. She stands up and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind us. I bite my lip, trying to imagine how it could have been possible for her to take the news well yesterday. Is this the same girl? Was she only pretending?

"I'll talk to her," Eric breathes in defeat, about to turn around.

"No, don't," I say, forcing a smile, "Give her time," I nod, not believing my own words, "She will come around."

SHSHSHSHSH

Eric persuaded me to go to the hospital and get checked out. Thanks to his harsh demands on the phone, he got rid of all the lines I would have had to wait in. So when I gave my name to the receptionist, I was greeted by a doctor straight away. He gave me a few scans and thankfully there was no internal damage. Only slight bruising, which is what I said it would be. But did Eric listen? No.

The doctor prescribed me a tub of cream to use twice a day. And then I was released. Eric arranged for a car to pick me up and drop me back off at his place. He was staying with Violet while I was out. He is taking time of work for me, which I feel terrible about. And Violet demanded to have a few days at home, because apparently she would have missed school anyway if it wasn't for me.

I walk into the apartment and Eric walks into me, wrapping his huge arms around my body, "How did it go?"

"Everything is fine," I sigh, looking over his shoulder for any signs of Violet. She is nowhere to be seen.

"Good," he mutters, planting a kiss on my cheek. We pull away in unison and he gives me what looks like an awkward smile. Awkward? Eric? What is going on?

I laugh slightly, furrowing my eyebrows, "What is it?"

"Nothing," he shrugs, digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "Come on. I've prepared dinner."

I smile as the warm smell of something roasted fills my nose.

And we set up the table together, all of us. Except from Violet, who is probably sulking in her bedroom. I raise a hand to my cheek, feeling for the hardened skin. How long is it going to take for her to accept me? Seriously? I appreciate that it came as a bit of a shock when Eric made that confession to her yesterday, but the least she could do is pretend, right?

No... this is wrong. She is only a child.

"Violet!" Eric makes me jump once he calls for her. I take a seat at the table and start waiting patiently for everyone to sit down before touching my food. Violet comes in at the third call of her name, hair pulled up into a high ponytail. Weirdly, she takes her seat next to me, but just in case of a sudden outburst, I shift away discreetly.

Eric has prepared a lovely meal to his taste. Steak, roasted potatoes, a variety of salads places around in small bowls on the table. There is a bottle of wine in the middle and a carton of orange juice close to Violet's plate.

Our eyes meet for a second when she decides to tuck her leg underneath her body. I look away quickly, feeling so out of place just by the look I keep on receiving.

Dinner consists of small talk, generally started by Eric. And a whole lot of sighs from Violet. It's like depression town over here. And I don't know how to fix it.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

I end up inviting myself into her bedroom when her dad goes for a shower. Violet is sat cross-legged on her bed, a thin book in front of her. For a moment, I don't want to disturb her, so I turn around as quickly as possible. And that's when she says, "I can see you."

Rolling my eyes, I turn back to face the child and emerge from behind her closet. She drops her eyes back to her book before shutting it loudly and tossing it away from both of us, like an obsessed scientist, ready to do anything to hide his secrets.

Gingerly, I take a seat on the edge of her bed. She stills like a statue until my word start to melt her.

"I know I'm not your mother," I say quietly, aware of the shower water on the other side of the wall, "And I'm not trying to be. I'm... too young for that," a feeble attempt at a joke that does not crack the slightest smile. She blinks, looking away, "You're not mad, are you? If it bothers you that much, I can leave."

Her eyes light up and then she sighs. Again.

"It doesn't bother me," her answer is straight.

"It does. Obviously. I mean, obviously it does-"

"Nope," she pops the 'p', straightening out her legs and falling back on the bed.

The sound of the shower stops and I stand back up, feeling like nothing here has been accomplished. I keep watching her face for a change of expression but she simply closes her eyes, looking tranquil.

"I care about you," I murmur, hands writhing above my knees, "I'm not just some bullshitter babysitter you might be used to," I cringe at the swearing but she can handle it. It's okay.

"Can you go?" there is a small smirk on her face now, "I'm tired."

I leave.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

There is no point in hiding it now. We can sleep in the same bed.

I slip on one of Eric's shirts before climbing under the heavy duvet. He watches me from afar, applying some sort of water to his face in the mirror.

The bed is cold, which turns out to be weirdly soothing. I curl into myself, knowing that my boyfriend's daughter will forever hate me for no particular reason. Maybe once the scary shit on my face disappears, she will be less repelled.

His arms curl around me from behind once the lights are off. I smile slightly, allowing his warm body to heat up mine.

"I hope you're not thinking of leaving," he breathes against the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. My heart goes for a quick dip in the pits of my stomach when I suspect that he could have heard mine and Violet's brief conversation. But then I realize that it would have been impossible. He just knows. He's Eric.

"I'm not leaving," I confirm, pushing my fingers through the gaps of his.

He sighs loudly, squeezing me tighter, "Give her time," he echoes my words from earlier, "She's just stubborn."

"I wonder where she gets that from," I joke, receiving a gentle slap on the thigh. It makes me giggle a little too loud.

We lie there until his breathing pattern changes and I know that he is asleep. For hours I remain wide awake. All I can think about is that girl's approval.

After overthinking, shedding a few tears, and stinging my healing wound with the salty water, I manage to get out of Eric's grip and make my way to the bathroom. The prescribed cream goes onto my face when I finally get it to dry.

And then the randomise thing happens.

Violet walks in, squinting her eyes at the darkness. Suddenly, I become extremely aware of the fact that I am wearing one of her dad's shirts and my legs are completely bare. She ignores me in the best way: by standing next to me in the mirror.

She grabs her electronic, pink toothbrush and starts rinsing it under a running tap. I refuse to move away, so I just start applying extra cream to my wound. Our eyes meet in the mirror.

"I forgot to brush my teeth," she mumbles, mouth full of foam.

Being the bold bitch that I am, I roll my eyes. I know she can't have anything bad to say about that, considering she does it all the time.

I tear my eyes away from the redness of my face in the mirror and turn to grab a towel. Violet nudges me in the hip with one of her arms. I gasp, jumping away. But when I see her face, I see panic in her eyes.

"Sorry," she mumbles, looking down.

I take a breath before replying, "It's alright."

She clicks off her vibrating toothbrush and places it onto a charging station by the mirror. I wait for her to leave but she doesn't. So I start to leave instead. She grabs my arm.

"Violet, enough-"

"I said I'm sorry," her eyes look up at me desperately. She can't keep my gaze, so our staring contest does not last too long. I place a hand on my chest, teeth digging into the bottom lip. It's evidently a hard thing for her to say. She has lost all of her characteristics by uttering those words. Wow. Why is it so weird?

"Let's go to bed," I suggest. She nods and grabs my wrist, leading me out of the bathroom and towards her bedroom.

I don't know if she has had a nightmare or an epiphany. It just suddenly clicks. It feels too soon even though she kept me waiting long enough. I fall asleep on the edge of her bed, allowing her to pull away most of the duvet. She could have been sleep walking. Maybe that was the reason for her sudden kindness.

 **You have no idea how hard this story was to finish. I wanted to tie up all the loose ends before the** **ending, but do you know what? I will save it for the sequel. You won't be disappointed.**

 **Meanwhile, check out my other story 'Trapped' and give it some love. It should be updated sooner than later.**

 **But other than that... just look out for the sequel. I will post a reminder on here, so everyone who follows this story will be alerted.**

 **Thank you for your support once again :)**


	46. Chapter 46

**Hey guys! The Nanny has returned! Check out the first chapter of the sequel which you will find somewhere in my story list!**


End file.
